Heartstring Theory
by Frost Deejn
Summary: Months after the defeat of Thanos, Earth faces a new threat: Wanda Maximoff, who's working through her grief with some seriously problematic coping mechanisms. The Avengers devise a risky plan to stop her: resurrect Vision. Chapter 31: The UN decides Wanda's fate, and she decides someone else's
1. The Candle

Disclaimer: It's not mine. The world and characters are Marvel's.

Spoilers for _Infinity War_.

Author's note: I'm not going to lie to you: this is going to be a little weird. This story will jump around in chronology a little. It's not going to be straightforward. It doesn't focus on how the Avengers defeat Thanos, but rather the aftermath. I'll tell you up front there will be plot points that won't make sense at first. If you choose to bear with me, I hope your patience will be rewarded with a good story.

Rated T for strong language and evil.

Heartstring Theory

Chapter 1: The Candle

"First Fig"

My candle burns at both ends;  
It will not last the night;  
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—  
It gives a lovely light!

~Edna St. Vincent Millay

The image of the tentacled skull had a metal panel embedded between its eyes.

"We were right; this is a HYDRA base," Natasha reported.

Sam stepped beside her. "Man, that is a lot of pent-up anger."

" _We've got casualties here,_ " Steve reported over the comm.

"Dead?" Natasha asked.

" _Doesn't look like it. Injured, catatonic._ "

She turned and made her way down a dark corridor. Dark because the light fixture was lying on the floor in a scattered mess of metal and glass. There were people in the hall, huddled in fetal positions, staring off into nothingness, mumbling to themselves.

She knew what they were going through.

" _Remember, if you locate her, do not engage. We need to talk her into coming quietly,_ " Tony said.

" _It's not like we haven't fought her before,"_ Spiderman replied.

"You haven't fought her like this," Natasha countered. "It's not just that she was holding back at Leipzig Airport. She stopped using her mental powers when she joined the Avengers. We all agreed they were too damaging. She chose to limit herself. She's not doing that anymore."

The next voice over the comm was Hope van Dyne. _"There's so much...wanton destruction here. She's just breaking everything."_

Natasha and Sam entered a room that had clearly been some kind of lab. There were three bodies in the room. A woman and young man had been shot in the head, another man had been twisted and torn apart, much like almost every item of furniture in sight.

"Nat, we've got a live one," Sam said, looking under a table.

She stooped down and found a middle-aged man, in the same uniform as the rest of the HYDRA agents, cowering as far against the wall as he could get.

"Where did she go?" she asked.

He shook his head, not looking at them.

"We're not going to hurt you," Sam said. "I mean, we are going to arrest you, but you'll be safe."

He still didn't say anything. He was clutching a photograph of a young family.

Natasha glanced at Sam. "I don't think he's going anywhere. Let's keep looking."

" _I've got someone on thermal in the sub-basement," Rhodes_ reported. _"It could be her."_

" _Is anyone on that level?_ " Steve asked.

 _"I am. Kind of,"_ Scott Lang answered. " _Where am I looking?"_

" _A hallway, north side. Heading east."  
_

Natasha and Sam sprinted down the hall to an elevator. Sam blew the door in. "Hold on."

She grabbed onto him and they dove down the elevator shaft. Near the bottom, Sam shot another missile to blow open the door. He made a sharp turn and flew into the opening beyond. He landed, and Natasha hopped off.

This level was dimly illuminated with emergency lights. There were a few more HYDRA guards down here. Some were dead, though the lack of external injuries indicated they'd poisoned themselves. Those who were alive were staring, unresponsive to their presence, lost in nightmares inside their own heads.

"When we find her, maybe you should talk to her first," Natasha said. "She likes you more."

"You scared?" he asked, trying to make a joke.

A denial sprang to her lips, but she discarded it in favor of the truth. "Yeah."

Guns lay in twisted heaps, there were knives buried to the hilt in the metal walls.

"This is more destructive than her last targets," Sam noted.

"Those weren't HYDRA. This is the organization that made her what she is. It makes sense she'd hold them responsible for ruining her life."

Scott's voice crackled over the comm. "I've got visual. It's her."

 _"Do not engage,"_ Steve said. _"Stay back until Clint, Nat, Sam, or I get there."_

" _Copy. She hasn't seen me. Wait...she's looking at me. What do I do?"_

"Pull back. Sam and I are almost there," Natasha answered as they sprinted down the corridor.

" _She just...shit. She just tore open a hole in the wall!"_

Natasha and Sam rounded a corner. They didn't see Scott, who was probably almost microscopic somewhere. They did see the gaping hole in the wall, metal peeled back, and a kaleidoscopic dance of red light and the clang of metal coming from it.

She held Sam back for a few moments. When the light stopped, she ran forward, Sam right next to her.

"Wanda?" Sam called. "Wanda, it's us."

They stopped at the hole. The room beyond was an armory, the weapons practically shredded. Wanda stood among them. She wore pure black. Her hair was tightly braided and almost bizarrely unruffled, considering she'd just rampaged her way through a HYDRA base.

She looked back at them. It was the first time they had seen her since Thanos. She looked pale and thin, and what was in her eyes was hard to read.

"Wanda, we need to talk to you," Natasha said.

She shook her head. Just barely. She spread her arms open and her fingers wide. Red light eminated from her, spreading out in tendrils into a sphere. It didn't look like lightning, more like veins, or tree roots. Spreading ever wider.

"What's she doing?" Sam whispered.

"I don't know. Get back."

They backed away, toward the far side of the hall. They saw Wanda twist one hand, and a mass of concrete, metal, rock, and dirt lifted from the floor. She tossed it aside and jumped down the hole she'd just created, followed by a bright, solid flash of red.

And then darkness.

When their eyes adjusted, Sam and Natasha entered the armory and looked down the hole. Sam turned on a flashlight.

"Where did she go?" he asked.

It was simply a hole in the ground. There were no tunnels, no caves, no way out at all. But it was completely empty.


	2. What Comes Around

Chapter 2: What Comes Around

I and the public know  
What all schoolchildren learn,  
Those to whom evil is done  
Do evil in return.

~W.H. Auden, from "September 1, 1939"

The HYDRA survivors were taken into custody, many requiring medical attention.

The scientist Sam had found under the table was named Gregory Selby. He was in better mental shape than most of them.

Natasha entered his cell. He was dressed in an orange jumpsuit, holding the same photo he'd been clutching before.

"That your daughter?" Natasha asked, noting similarities in facial structure between the young mother in the photograph and the man in front of her.

"Yes. And my grandson."

She sat down on the cot next to him, on his level, non-threatening, a posture that would make him more likely to talk to her. "You'll see them again." She felt slightly ill being schmoozy with a HYDRA scientist, but she didn't show it. "Sentencing is going to go a lot better for you if you cooperate. Can you tell me what happened back at the lab?"

He nodded slowly. "The base was under attack. Carl and I secured the test subjects. We thought the guards would handle it. But...the alarm didn't stop. She broke the door. Carl shot at her, but the bullets hit some kind of energy shield. So Carl shot the test subjects. Those were our orders: don't let them fall into enemy hands. Then the gun broke. It just...like she tied it in a knot. Then she grabbed Carl. It was like...a giant red hand of light...lifted him up." He shuddered. "She asked him a question, then she killed him. She turned to me, and just looked at me, like she could see into my head. And then she left. I don't know why she didn't kill me too."

"What was the question she asked?"

"It made no sense. She just said, 'Who do you love?' Carl said 'No one.' I think he thought if he named anyone she would kill them instead. But she said, 'Then there's no reason for you to live.' Then she...she... You saw what she did. You saw his body. How can anyone do that to another human being?"

Natasha didn't think a HYDRA scientist involved in human experimentation had any room to talk, but she saw no need to say that.

"Those two people Carl killed, your test subjects, who were they?"

"Just two people, ex-cons, no family. Their names were Brina and Ted. At least that's what they called each other. We called them X-Delta and X-Theta."

"What were the experiments you were working on?" she asked, making her tone curious and non-judgmental.

"Exposing them to low doses of electromagnetic waves at various frequencies after dosing them with nutrient cocktails, trying to recreate the supersoldier recipe. We were making progress."

Nat didn't think anything else he said would give any more insight, but he'd already given her enough. "Thank you. I'll let them know how cooperative you've been."

...

... ... ...

...

The conference room was crowded. Tony, Bruce, Steve, Sam, Clint, Rhodes, Scott Lang, Hope Van Dyne, Bucky Barnes, Nick Fury, and Maria Hill sat or stood around the table. Okoye and King T'Challa joined them in holographic projections.

Natasha took her seat.

Fury stood up and walked to the window. "Four months ago, the world changed," he bagan. "All most people know is that some weird-ass shit happened. Half the population had some kind of mass nightmare. The other half don't remember anything about it. Half the polulation remembers seeing alien spaceships on the news, over New York, Edinburgh, and Wakanda. The other half remembers it as a Tuesday, at least until half the people they knew started freaking out and rambling about being back. When Tony Stark told the world the Avengers saved it from an alien named Thanos, and that Thanos had disappeared after being defeated, and might still be back, the U.N. saw fit to pardon Captain America's faction and radically revise the Sokovia Accords so Earth's greatest heroes could present a united front again. My point, ladies and gentlemen, is that the last thing Earth needs right now is any more weird-ass shit, especially if it becomes common knowledge these attacks are the work of a single former Avenger."

"'Attacks' is kind of a strong word," Natasha said.

"And 'former' is just wrong," Steve added. "Wanda's still one of us."

"You said none of you have had contact with her since the battle with Thanos. You don't know who or what she's answering to now, or what her agenda is."

Natasha stood up. "Fury, if I may?"

He looked at her questioningly, but gestured for her to continue.

She threw up a holographic presentation she'd hastily prepared. "Let's take a look at what Wanda's been up to. The first...incident: the leaders of the Heshima Movement, a rebel army that used child soldiers." She showed photos of young children holding guns that looked too heavy for them to carry. "Next, the Cuchillo Dorado, a Mexican drug cartel known to murder the loved ones of anyone who crosses them, most notably the wife of a mayor who put several members of the cartel in prison." She brought up a photo of a woman's mutilated body, limbs lopped off but face untouched to ensure easy recognition. "She also went after Sheriff Billy Mullins, the corrupt Colorado officer who jailed a young protester named Sadie Janson, denied her access to her prescription medication, and left her body in her cell for at least ten hours after her death. Her fiancée recorded a plea for justice that went viral. Sheriff Mullins was given a few weeks' suspension."

Maria Hill interrupted her. "You're leaving out her attacks on government organizations, parliaments, executives..."

"Of countries and companies responsible for human rights violations, especially refugee crises and politically motivated executions. Notably, until her attack on the HYDRA base in Manitoba, she never killed anyone. She's not interested in killing people, she's just forcing them to face the things they've done. If you look at the pattern of her targets, they're all people whose crimes tear apart families, or cause the anguish of their victims' lovers. She's trying to hold people responsible for causing the same kind of pain she's suffered. She's not taking orders from anyone, and she doesn't have an agenda: she's in mourning."

"She isn't killing people" Fury said, " _if_ we're not counting how many of her victims commit suicide, and the deaths due to political turmoil in the countries she's destabilized."

"Which are tragic, but..." Nat wanted to say 'not _that_ tragic,' but she restrained herself, "...not her intention."

Maria spoke up. "Regardless of whatever harm she's caused so far, she's a loose cannon, and I think we can all agree she's dangerously powerful, possibly more powerful than any other enhanced currently on the planet. She needs to be stopped. I know you don't want to hear this, but we need to make a plan in case we need to resort to permanent measures."

Clint spoke first, barely beating Steve to an objection. "'Permanent measures'? You're talking about killing her."

"She may be growing too powerful to allow to continue living."

"That's not what we do," Steve said forcefully. "Wanda needs to be brought back to the fold, and we'll do that, but she's our friend, and anyone who wants to execute her goes through me first."

"How exactly do you plan on bringing her back to the fold?" Fury asked. "From what I heard, she slipped right through your fingers at the HYDRA base. I'm not sure she's all that interested in stopping her rampage any time soon."

Tony stood up and paced for a moment. "Okay, we can't let Maximoff keep doing what she's doing. Yes, she's dangerous. She needs to be stopped. But completely setting aside that a lot of people in this room consider her a friend, she's not completely in her right mind right now. She watched Thanos kill the man she loved. That's gonna screw anybody up. And after everything else she's lost in her life, I think she's showing admirable restraint in just targeting people who deserve it."

"So far," Bruce said. Everyone turned to him. He shifted uncomfortably. "I'm just saying...I understand she's in pain, but that pain's gonna roll over the whole world. We have to stop her any way we can. Vision would understand that."

"No he wouldn't," Tony stated.

"I don't see how we can even be talking about killing her considering what we owe her," Okoye piped up. "What the _universe_ owes her; we would not have stopped Thanos without her."

"The security and stabitily of the world is an important consideration," T'Challa said pensively, "but I agree with my general; I cannot condone deadly measures against this woman to whom we owe so much. Not until we have tried everything else."

"I hate to say it," Rhodes said, "but we need to be thinking about the future instead of the past. If she's going to keep doing this, using people's nightmares as a weapon of terror, what she did in the past and what she was to us in the past doesn't take away our responsibility to protect the world."

"She's not a terrorist," Steve argued. "And I can't believe you would just dismiss what she did to stop Thanos."

"I'm not dismissing it. She saved my life during that battle. But there are other lives to consider."

"Alright, stop," Tony said, and though he didn't raise his voice, his words and demeanor commanded attention. "Let's forget what we owe her for a minute. We need to talk to her. We need to know what she knows. She disappeared along with Thanos after we got the Gauntlet. We heard her say she couldn't kill him; we need to know what happened to him. We need to know if he's still a danger. And the only one who can tell us that is Wanda Maximoff. _That_ is worth keeping her alive, no matter what mayhem she gets up to. Fury, Hill, Rhodey, I get what you're saying, but no one's killing her on my watch."

Fury nodded. "Well, if that's the case, let me make a suggestion." He looked at Tony, Steve, Clint, and Natasha pointedly. "Get to her before somebody else does."

...

... ... ...

...

Nat lingered in the conference room after the meeting to exchange a few words with Clint, Steve, and Tony. By the time she got to her room in the Avengers compound, Bruce was already there, sitting at the edge of the couch, looking like a schoolboy outside a principal's office.

"You're wrong about Wanda," she informed him.

"Maybe. You know her a lot better than I do. But can I just point out...running around the world spreading fear and destruction, getting into people's heads: that's exactly the Wanda Maximoff I know."

"I realize that. But don't forget, if I were being judged by my past, I'd be on death row about now." She sat down beside him, hooking one leg over his.

He was momentarily flustered by the physical contact, as she knew he would be, especially since he'd been expecting to be in trouble. "So what's your plan? I'm assuming you've got a plan."

"To talk to her. You should have seen her back at the HYDRA base; she's changed, but she's still Wanda. She'll come back if she thinks we need her."

"The thing is, as far as I can tell, the biggest threat to Earth right now _is_ her," Bruce said. He rested his hand on Nat's knee. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't."

"She's powerful enough to tear you apart, psychologically or physically."

"But she won't."

He clearly wasn't convinced, but didn't want to argue.

She gave him a reassuring smile and a quick kiss. "Maybe sometimes _not_ fighting is what saves the world."

"Even if you're right, how do you plan to find her?" he asked.

"Easy. By figuring out her next target."


	3. Freight

Chapter 3: Freight

"Speech"—is a prank of Parliament—  
"Tears"—a trick of the nerve—  
But the Heart with the heaviest freight on—  
Doesn't—always—move—

~Emily Dickinson

Flashback:

9 hours after the Snap.

Amid the chaos, there had still been stray alien monsters to kill, wounded Wakandan warriors to treat, tallies to take.

The triage had taken hours. They'd worked deep into the night by floodlights and the moon.

The room Natasha had been led to in T'Challa's palace was nice. It was clean, cool, well lit. There was a bed and a bathroom. She wanted to take a shower. It wasn't so much that she _wanted_ to take a shower as that she knew in a distant, automated way that it was something she _should_ do, and she knew for sure she didn't want to eat and she didn't want to sleep. And there was dried alien blood caked on her.

The shower had knobs to adjust both temperature and pressure. They were labeled, but only in Wakandan, so it took her a minute to figure out the settings. She settled on warm water in a massaging back-and-forth rhythm, and tried to let herself relax.

That was the moment it hit her.

Sam: gone.

Wanda: gone.

Vision: gone.

T'Challa: gone.

Tony Stark was still missing, and she hadn't been able to get in touch with Clint.

The despair—the soul-deep, suffocating, all-consuming despair—flooded over her like a tsunami. She didn't cry. She'd been trained too well in the Red Room to ever let her real feelings so much as ripple on the surface.

 _Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe._

She didn't need despair right now. Her despair wasn't going to help anyone; the dead were beyond help, and the living needed her focused and healthy. Which meant she needed sleep and food.

She finished her shower, tied a sarong-like thin cotton towel around herself, and left the bathroom.

Bruce was standing in the room. He was also freshly showered, his hair still wet. He was wearing Wakandan clothes.

"I'm sorry. I...I shouldn't've just walked in. I knocked. You didn't answer, and I got... The door was unlocked..."

"It's fine." She almost made a joke about not killing him for surprising her, but wasn't in a joking mood. "You were worried?"

"Yeah. I know, it's dumb."

"No, it's not," she assured him. "I don't think anyone knows what to expect anymore." She took a seat on the edge of the bed, and gestured for him to do the same. It was well after midnight. They were both physically, psychologically, and emotionally exhausted.

He settled next to her stiffly, mindful of how little she was wearing. "I don't know what went wrong with the big guy. I was sure he would show up in the nick of time."

"You think he would have made a difference?"

"Maybe. Couldn't have made things worse."

A tiny smile raised the right corner of her lips. "Don't beat yourself up, Bruce. The Hulk not showing up isn't your fault. None of it was your fault. We all did everything we could."

He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and stared at his hands. "I feel like it's not real. Like it can't possibly be real. If we did everything we could, how did we lose? How could we fail so bad?"

"That's just how life works. You can only do as much as you can do." It sounded weak even to her own ears. She knew sometimes you had to put off dealing with something until you were ready for it, and right now, as raw and tired as they were, it was not a good time to face what had happened. "We haven't had time to talk," she said, deliberately changing the subject. "Where have you been for the past three years?"

"Honestly, I don't remember it all that clearly. The Other Guy was in total control for most of it. Thor found me on this...crazy alien planet. From what he told me and the flashes I can remember, after the Hulk stole the Quinjet, he was found by a...I guess you could almost call her a slave trader. She'd capture people to fight in an arena as gladiators in front of an audience of thousands. Hulk never lost."

"I bet he had a lot of fun."

Bruce looked down. "I don't know. He killed a lot of people. A lot of innocent people, kidnapped to die for other people's entertainment."

"You know you can't blame yourself for that. You can't control what the Hulk does. And neither can he, really."

"I know. It's just...I used to hope the rest of the universe wasn't as brutal as Earth. I think hope is dead now."

"Hope can never die; it's an abstract concept."

He chuckled without smiling. "Yeah, well, it feels pretty dead right now."

"So Thor found you on that alien planet. What happened next?"

"He helped Hulk escape, or talked him into leaving. I remember being back on the Quinjet, and it played the recording of you trying to talk Hulk into turning the plane around. I remember that. I don't remember most of what Hulk did between flying the jet away from Sokovia and that moment, but I remember seeing your face. It's what woke me up enough to get control back, or what convinced Hulk to give control back. It was like the last thing I could remember was the battle in Sokovia and then I woke up on an alien planet."

"That must have been weird."

"It was sureal. If Thor wasn't there, I don't know what I would've done. We escaped that planet, but then we had to fight Thor's sister."

"I didn't know Thor had a sister."

"Neither did he. His father's guilty secret, apparently. The battle destroyed Asgard, and the Asgardians escaped in a giant spaceship. And then Thanos...happened."

"And that's when you came back to Earth."

"More like got flung back to Earth. I think Heimdall thought I might make a difference. I must have failed."

"Stop that." She put her hand on his arm. "Thinking like that isn't going to help anything."

He looked at her hand. "I'm sorry. It's been a weird...life, reallly." He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry I left like that. The Other Guy...he ran away because he wanted to protect you. He didn't want to risk hurting you. And I...I didn't try to stop him."

"So let me get this straight: I finally meet someone I..." She trailed off, not sure if she meant to say 'could love' or 'loved', so she said neither. "And without any explanation, without saying goodbye or leaving any message about where you were going, you run away, and I'm left here for three years wondering if you're dead or alive. And you did it to _not_ hurt me?"

He sighed, and shrugged. "I'm sorry."

The way he said that simple 'I'm sorry' was heartbreaking. He sounded so lost, so hopeless, so tired.

Nat took his hand. "Just don't do it again, okay?"

"I can't make promises for the Other Guy."

"I'll have a talk with him next time he shows up."

" _If_ he shows up," Bruce said.

"If he doesn't, then it won't be a problem." She looked him in the eyes. "I'm glad you're still here, Bruce."

"I'm glad you're still here too."


	4. A Lady and a Tiger

Chapter 4: A Lady and a Tiger

In an empty valley there's a beautiful woman  
Suddenly enveloped by serene solitude  
When the east wind brushes in  
The fragrance of a distant perfume

~Sun Kehong

If Sokovia had one thing going for it, it was the beauty of its mountains. On this mid-October day, their tops were draped in the powdery blue of new snow.

This bar had an amazing view. It was on the top floor of a brand new hotel on the shore of the new lake that had formed in the crater left by Ultron. The Sokovians were still debating what to name this lake. It seemed Sokovian politicians were bitterly divided over whether to name it something picturesque to promote tourism, or something dismal to honor the tragedy of its creation and the lives lost that day.

Whatever it would end up being called, and in spite of its origin, the lake was beautiful: perfectly round and tranquil, reflecting the rugged snowcapped mountains like a mirror.

Wanda was looking at the view, too. That might be why she hadn't noticed Natasha's presence yet.

Nat wondered what Wanda would name that lake. She probably had more of a right to name it than anyone else; she'd been born and raised in the part of the city where that lake was now, and she had set into motion the chain of events that led to its existence. Come to think of it, "Lake Maximoff" had a nice ring to it. Though Wanda would probably consider it a dubious honor.

Nat went to the bar and pointed to a bottle of beer, dumping a handful of loose change on the counter to pay for it, cultivating the appearance of a clueless tourist. She took a minute to look around the room as if deciding where to sit.

How would Wanda react when she saw her? Would she even be willing to talk? Nat wasn't sure. She hadn't been able to reach her when they recovered her after the Snap. None of her friends could. It had been Peter Quill who finally managed to break her out of her stupor. He'd insisted on talking to Wanda after hearing what had happened to her, and minutes later he'd returned to his ship's bridge with Wanda in tow. She still hadn't been back to her old self, but she was responsive. When they had tracked down Thanos again, she and Quill threw themselves into the fight with no regard for their own survival, even after Thanos threw the Hulk so far he'd landed out of sight. When Thor's ax cut off Thanos's arm, it had been Wanda and Quill who kept the Gauntlet away from him. Wanda had then used her power to stop Quill's suicide attack, moving him to safety, then tossing everyone else back with a circle of red energy so she could take on Thanos alone, in an attack that at first seemed equally suicidal.

Nat shook off that troubling memory.

It was late afternoon, and there were only a few other patrons in the bar. Wanda sat alone at a small square table near a window, an untouched sandwich and a cup of tea in front of her. Nat walked behind her slowly, on a trajectory that made it seem she was walking toward another empty table.

When she was directly behind her, Wanda, without turning, began to speak.

"'Tiger tiger, burning bright,  
In the forests of the night;  
What immortal hand or eye,  
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies,  
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?  
On what wings dare he aspire?  
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art,  
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?  
And when thy heart began to beat,  
What dread hand? And what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,  
In what furnace was thy brain?  
What the anvil? what dread grasp,  
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?'"

Nat froze. That poem, she was somehow sure, was directed at her. There was no one else close enough to hear it over the music, so she was either talking to herself or to her.

"William Blake?" she asked for something neutral to say.

"Do you like poetry much, Nat?"

Was this a dangerous question? Wanda had spoken it mildly, conversationally. She was still staring out at her lake and Sokovia's beautiful mountains.

"I studied poetry and classics some in school. That was a very long time ago, and it focused mostly on Russian literature. I didn't know you were interested in poetry."

"I wasn't until a couple of years ago. _He_ loved poetry. He used to read me his favorite poems, explaining the meanings of obscure words and the poetic devices they used, and then we would discuss possible interpretations."

That Vision loved poetry came as no surprise. Just like he loved art, architecture, music, and everything else that made humans _human._

"I've come to realize there's a kind of magic in poems," Wanda continued. "A poem can mean something to you that the poet never intended. The poem may mean something different to everyone who reads it, and each meaning is real. The poem takes on a life of its own beyond its creator. Kind of like you. You are one of the most dangerous humans on Earth; you were _made_ to be, molded and crafted into the perfect killer. But you used what they made you to help save the world. You moved beyond what they ever intended you to be."

Nat hadn't been sure how this encounter would go, but a discussion about poetry certainly hadn't been among the possibilities she'd imagined. But they were talking, and that was good.

"You've got a great view here. Mind if I have a seat?"

"Go ahead."

Nat sat diagonal from her. Wanda didn't move her eyes from the window.

"I'm here alone, in case you were wondering," Nat said.

Wanda smirked. "If you brought an army, do you think it would make a difference?"

"It might make a difference to them," she replied. "But I'm not here to try to stop you. You're here for Aleksander Karcsi, the Sokovian industrialist. Last month the journalist Jakob Regenbogen and his wife were kidnapped after he wrote an exposé of Karcsi's corruption. Regenbogen was strangled to death while his wife was forced to watch. Karsci was arrested for it, but he spent less than a day in jail before evidence was mysteriously misplaced and eyewitnesses developed fuzzy memories. I figured you wouldn't let that go, especially since the victim was your own countryman. This is Karsci's favorite bar; he's part owner of it, and he comes here often enough that he's done press conferences from here. It's where I'd hang out if I were planning to ambush him. That's why I figured I'd find you here."

"I did learn from the best," Wanda said.

"Like I said, I'm not going to stop you. You can do whatever you want with Karsci. I'm just here to talk."

Wanda looked at her from the corner of her eye. Nat wondered, now that Wanda was using her mental powers again, how much of her thoughts she could see. Could she sense her intentions?

Even if she could, it would be fine. True, Nat did mean to try to convince Wanda to go back and join the newly reunited Avengers, but her primary reason for being here was just to check on Wanda, to make sure she was okay, because she was her friend.

At least, she was pretty sure that was the real reason, that she wasn't harboring any ulterior motives. But she wasn't always good at accessing her own emotions; she'd spent too much of her life avoiding it. What would Wanda see if she looked into her head?

"I'm glad you found me," Wanda said. "I missed you."

"I've missed you too. I've been worried about you. To be honest, we had no idea whether you were still alive."

Her eyes closed, and a pained expression crossed her face for a few seconds. Then she opened her eyes and shifted in her chair to face Nat fully. "I'm alive. It's me, in the flesh. But I get why you'd wonder."

"You've been gone a long time. How did you get back to Earth?"

"Long story. Would you like half my sandwich? It's paprika chicken, a Sokovian specialty."

"I don't want you to go hungry," Nat answered.

"I didn't plan on finishing it. I don't have much of an appetite these days."

"You know what? I am kind of hungry," she said after a moment's consideration. Sharing food with someone was a gesture of trust, an act of companionship. And the sandwich looked really good.

Wanda handed her half, then took a bite of her own half. Nat followed her lead. It was surprisingly good for bar food: tender chicken and crisp cabbage on rye bread.

"You know, this is the first time I've been back here since Ultron," Wanda said between bites. "It feels so strange. So much has happened. I don't know if the city has changed more or if I have. It's still the place where I was born and raised, but that seems like a different lifetime."

"That's how I feel whenever I go back to Russia. It's where I'm from, but it's not home anymore."

"And yet there are days when, in spite of all the problems and the bad memories, I get homesick for this place."

"Do you ever get homesick for New York?" Nat asked.

She examined the tea remaining in her cup. " _Y_ ou really think everyone would just accept me back, after what I've been up to? Even if the team did, the public would demand to lock me back up."

"Considering the mood of the world right now, and the fact that you're the one who stopped Thanos, I think the public will look past a little vigilante justice on the side."

"I wouldn't say I stopped Thanos. It was Thor who cut off his arm. And I wasn't there to undo the Snap. I didn't even know that was possible. I just wanted revenge. I just wanted to hurt him."

"We were all just out for revenge. None of us knew Strange's plan to use the Time Stone to stop Thanos."

"I've been wondering about that. How did you stop him?"

"Well, after you disappeared, leaving us with the Gauntlet and Thanos's dismembered arm—which really started to smell after a few hours, by the way. Be glad you weren't there for that—Dr. Strange used the Time Stone to take all of us back to before he got the first Stone, one called the Power Stone, which was under guard on a planet called Xandar. Quill explained the situation to the people guarding the Power Stone, and they, miraculously, believed him. Honestly, I wouldn't have in their place. When he told the story it sounded crazy. But they were willing to go along with the plan and loan us the Power Stone. When Thanos showed up, Quill, Thor, Hulk, Nebula, and Strange took the Power Stone, kind of teleported over to Thanos's ship, and used the Power Stone to destroy it. We don't know if the explosion killed Thanos. There were a lot of bodies in the wreckage, but not his."

"Interesting," Wanda said with a distant look.

"But whether we killed him or not, we stopped him, and that created a new timeline. The only people who remembered what happened were us and the people Thanos dusted. I can't imagine how weird it was for them. The way Sam and T'Challa described it, it was like waking up from a nightmare, except in the middle of doing something completely different from the last thing you remember doing. Clint thought it _was_ just a nightmare, at first. He'd been asleep when it happened to him, and all he remembers is being surrounded by orange light, then he woke up and was back in his bed. It wasn't until he heard the news reports the next morning about the mass panic, the mass hallucination, and everything else they were calling it that he realized he'd been one of them."

"Why don't you remember the new timeline?" Wanda asked curiously.

"Strange said it's because we'd time traveled ourselves, which put us in a kind of time bubble, so we weren't affected by what we changed. He said that's one of the reasons screwing around with time travel is generally a bad idea."

"I see." She was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Do you think there might be a way to...take someone from one of those time bubbles and put them in the new timeline?"

Nat paused for a second. She wanted to phrase her answer carefully, because there was an undercurrent of hope in that question, and she was about to dash it. "Tony asked Dr. Strange about that, after Strange said Vision must have been in a time bubble when he died. Strange said there was absolutely nothing he could do. Tony almost punched him in the face."

"'Nothing he could do,'" Wanda repeated. She looked away. A moment later, a teardrop splashed on the tabletop.

"I'm sorry," Nat said.

"I know." She took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm dealing with it. I was in a bad place for a while—a few bad places, actually—but I'm dealing."

"And this project of yours—Karcsi and HYDRA and the others—is that helping you deal with it?"

"It is, actually. There is so much pain in the world, and so much of it doesn't have to happen; it's just people not thinking about the consequences of their actions. It's greed, pride, misguided ideals keeping people from being able to care about other people, failures of compassion. So many people never have to face the pain they caused. And they try not to face it, because thinking about yourself and the suffering you've caused is a painful process. I know that from experience. People avoid doing it. A lot of people just rationalize whatever they do to avoid wondering if they were wrong. I can make them face that. I'm the only one with both the power and the will to do it. And yes, thinking about the possibility that I might be preventing these people from causing more pain helps me get up in the morning."

"I'm not saying you're wrong," Nat said. "In fact, to be perfectly honest, I kind of agree with you. But you're making a lot of people pretty nervous, and there's been talk about stopping you."

"I'm not surprised." She drank the last of her tea and frowned at her empty cup before putting it down. "Don't worry about me. I'm not letting anyone lock me up again."

"See, when you say things like that, it doesn't really help me _not_ worry about you."

She shrugged. "Then worry about me. It won't make a difference. I can't go back."

"Yes you can. Come home, Wanda. Make the world better, but do it with us, where we can protect you."

"So I just go back to New York and go back to how it was before, like none of it happened?"

Nat wasn't sure what to say. Of course it would never be the same. "We need you. There are going to be more threats to the safety of the world. Having you on the team could be the difference between winning and losing, between life and death."

She shook her head. "You don't need me. You've got the Hulk and Thor back now."

"Well, we do have Banner back, but Thor's been too busy dealing with the Asgard relocation to do much Avengering."

"I can't imagine Banner would want me there. I think he still hates me."

"He'll come around. I'll make sure of that."

Wanda caught the slight change in her demeanor. "How will you make sure of that?" she asked. Before Nat could answer, she leaned forward with a smile. "Oh my God, are you _together?_ "

"Yeah. I was kind of crushing on him before the Hulk ran off after Ultron. And after the Snap, he finally decided to stop being scared and see if we might work out."

"And is it?"

"So far so good," Nat answered.

"That's great! I'm happy for you."

"Thanks." Nat finished the last few bites of her sandwich and washed it down with a swig of beer.

"So does he ever...go all green on you?"

"Nothing I can't handle. The big guy likes me."

"That's good." She looked down at the remnant of her sandwich. "Could you tell him how sorry I am, for Johannesburg?"

"Come back with me and tell him yourself."

She looked tempted. For a moment, Nat thought she might accept the offer. Then she shook her head. "The truth is, there are too many _good_ memories back there. Everywhere I looked and everything I touched would remind me of _him_. I don't think I could bear it. Besides, I have things to do."

"You mean this quest, showing the bad guys of the world the pain they're causing?"

"That's really more of a hobby."

Then what did she mean? Nat wondered. If not this vigilante spree, what was it Wanda thought she had to do?

She remembered back to Wanda's battle with Thanos. He was weakened, one-armed, trapped by Wanda's power.

 _I can't kill him!_

That was the last thing Wanda said before she and Thanos vanished in a blaze of red. They had all wondered, when hours went by and they hadn't reappeared, if they were both dead. As the weeks went by after Thanos's defeat, Nat had become increasingly sure Wanda was gone for good. And then rumors began to circulate of attacks that sounded like Wanda's powers: groups of people having nightmarish visions, caused by an attacker no one remembered seeing clearly. But if Wanda had returned, what had become of Thanos? That was the mystery Tony had argued they needed to keep Wanda alive to solve.

"Where is Thanos?" Nat asked quietly.

She could swear Wanda looked smug. "Somewhere he can't hurt anyone."

"But not dead?"

"He might as well be dead. He'll never be a threat to the universe again as long as I can help it."

Nat knew this tone from dozens of interrogations: Wanda was saying exactly as much as she was willing to say, and pressing her for more would make her shut down. Nat would have to let it go and circle around to it later, which was frustrating because she really, _really_ wanted to know what that meant. She knew Wanda was powerful, but so was Thanos. What if whatever she was doing to protect the universe from Thanos wouldn't be enough?

"If that's true," Nat said quietly, "that's even more reason for you to come back to us, so we can protect you, make sure you don't die. This hobby could get you killed, you know. It just takes a moment of inattention, one sniper who gets a beat on you before you do them. And besides..."

"Besides what?" Wanda asked when she trailed off.

She shook her head. "Nevermind. It's nothing."

"Tell me."

Nat sighed. "The thing is, Wanda, I know what you're going through. I get wanting to make people pay. And it feels good, at first. But the doubts will start to creep in, the images. Someday it's going to start to haunt you. I don't want that for you."

"Haunt me?" Wanda's lips curled into something that might have been a smile if it weren't so bitter, so wild.

"Why is that funny?" Nat asked.

"It's just...there comes a point when you've done something so terrible nothing else you ever do could touch you. No guilt I'd ever feel over things like this would be more than—what's that expression?—A drop in a bucket compared to what I already have."

What did she feel so guilty over? This was a question Nat wanted to know the answer to before she asked it. She sipped her beer to buy herself a moment to think. Ultron, Johannesburg, Lagos...Wanda still carried her guilt for all of those. But this was bigger, this global vigilante spree was worse than those, so whatever she was blaming herself for now must have eclipsed all of that, and it had to have something to do with Thanos.

It had to have something to do with Vision. Nothing else would impact her so much.

 _No. You have to destroy it._

That was why Vision was in a time bubble when he died. Why Thanos would have used the Time Stone.

Nat put her beer down and looked at Wanda fully. She understood the look in her eyes now, the wild grief trapped beneath a veneer of cold acceptance.

The argument that Wanda should give up her vigilantism hobby because it was dangerous wouldn't work, because risking her life was part of its appeal. She had an impulse for self-destruction that she was managing by courting danger.

Very quietly, as gently as she could, she said, "You did it, what he asked you to do. You destroyed the Mind Stone."

"For all the good it did." Fresh tears formed in her eyes. "And the big joke is, if I hadn't, if I'd refused and let Thanos kill him, he would be back now."

"There's no way to know that; we don't know what would have happened to the Mind Stone when the timeline changed. It's not your fault. There was nothing else you could have done. It's alright."

Wanda's eyes snapped toward her, suddenly full of fire. "Why would you say that?" she asked with unexpected harshness. "Don't say it's alright when it's not alright. How can anything ever be _all right_? Something's always wrong."

That word was a trigger for her, Nat realized. "Okay," she said very carefully. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you were forced to do that. I can't imagine how much that hurts."

The tears spilled over, dripping down Wanda's cheeks. "I'm sorry. I just miss him so much."

Nat put her hand on her arm. What could she say? What could she possibly say to convince Wanda to give up this quest that was all she could think to do to deal with her guilt and grief, to convince her that rejoining the Avengers was what Vision would want her to do? It wouldn't work. Nat had to gain her trust, and that meant not pushing her.

"Here." She handed her a napkin. Wanda dabbed her cheeks and took a deep breath.

"The thing is, I _could_ have saved him. If I knew then what I'm capable of, if I'd allowed myself to explore the full extents of my power before, I could have stopped Thanos."

"There was no way you could have known you would need to. Don't blame yourself for what Thanos did."

"I know. And don't worry; Thanos isn't off the hook. You know, even if I could kill him, I wouldn't. He doesn't get off that easy. He gets to suffer." Her face twisted with hatred for a second, then it smoothed into an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry I frightened you, Nat. I would never hurt you. I promise. It really does mean a lot to me that you're here. I know you came to try to talk me into going back, and I know you mean it out of friendship. I hope you understand now why I can't."

Without waiting for a response, she left the table, heading toward the restroom. At the door, she turned to look over the room. There were eleven other people in it, including Aleksander Karcsi, his wife, and three cronies, who had come in a few minutes before and sat down with a bottle of wine and some glasses.

Wanda's fingers flexed, then began moving in a jittery, spidery dance. Threads of red flowed out from her fingers and touched the head of each person in the room one by one, instantly rendering them still, staring blankly straight ahead.

Nat felt her pulse quicken. _Not the Red Room again. Please no._

More light snaked from Wanda's fingers to Karcsi's head, his eyes, his ears. Everyone else was seeing visions of their own, but she was shaping his, drawing his worst nightmares to the surface and adding a dash of her own.

Then she turned and entered the restroom.

Nat sat still for a minute. Everyone else in the room was incapacitated but her. Wanda had spared her.

Any security system in the room would be malfunctioning, she knew from Wanda's previous attacks. There was little risk anyone would recognize them and connect them to the attack.

When Wanda didn't come back, she walked to the restroom and slowly opened the door.

It was empty. Once again, Wanda was gone without a trace.


	5. Snapt

Chapter 5: Snapt

The first Day's Night had come—  
And grateful that a thing  
So terrible—had been endured—  
I told my Soul to sing—

She said her Strings were snapt—  
Her Bow—to Atoms blown—  
And so to mend her—gave me work  
Until another Morn—

And then—a Day as huge  
As Yesterdays in pairs,  
Unrolled its horror in my face—  
Until it blocked my eyes—

My Brain—begun to laugh—  
I mumbled—like a fool—  
And tho' 'tis Years ago—that Day—  
My Brain keeps giggling—still.

And Something's odd—within—  
That person that I was—  
And this One—do not feel the same—  
Could it be Madness—this?

~Emily Dickinson

Wanda didn't need to be huddling under an old wooden landing to avoid the freezing rain in a particularly blighted Novi Grad neighborhood. There were a thousand places she could be at the moment that were more pleasant, more comfortable. But right now she just wanted to listen to the rain, to let the sound of the rain drown out thought. To let the cold numb her.

It wasn't just the rain. Being back in her hometown, the city of her childhood, was bringing up memories. Of Pietro, their teen years eking out a life on these very streets. Of her parents, poor but content, in a dilapidated apartment in the old center of the city. The shock of their deaths. The fear, while she huddled with Pietro for days, that they would soon join them. The pain of Pietro's death that she'd felt as if it were her own. She dwelled on those memories, on that old pain, to dull a newer and even worse pain.

She had survived losing her parents, though she'd survived damaged, full of hate and vengeance that she'd focused on one name: Stark. She'd survived losing Pietro, again with hatred and vengeance, this time directed toward someone she'd once cared about: Ultron. Hatred and vengeance was how she would live through this pain as well.

It was funny how quickly the world had gone back to normal after the events people had come to refer to simply as "Thanos." The schism in reality that left half the people of Earth with memories of a strange day—news filled with videos of spaceships, attacking aliens, and Avenger battles, and then turning to dust—and the other half with no memories of any of those events. That had been practically all anyone talked about for almost two weeks, and then Earth went back to business as usual: greed, wars, self-righteousness. Thanos had been naïve to think killing half of everyone would change anything; catastrophes bred fear, finger-pointing, disillusionment, and idealism that would only lead to more suffering. The population would bounce back after a couple of generations, but the new society would just be crueler, more oppressive, and more selfish than the one it replaced. None of the lessons Thanos hoped to teach would sink in.

Of course, maybe she was naïve to hope her quest to punish evil by making them feel the nightmares they caused would help save anyone. Maybe people didn't change.

But if they didn't change, they still deserved to be punished, to suffer for the suffering they caused.

She listened to the rain. She wasn't worried anyone would find her here. No one would even look for her here. And even if they did, she wasn't worried. She'd been hassled by a drug dealer down the street earlier. She'd given him the worst trip of his life. She hadn't meant to kill him, but his heart had given out. His death didn't bother her.

She wasn't worried about freezing to death: the power coursing through her body made her more physically resilient than average humans. She was certainly weaker and more vulnerable than Steve and Bucky, but she had already survived things that should have killed her. She understood why now. She understood so much, now.

She was sleepy, but didn't want to close her eyes. Sleep would bring dreams, either the nightmares that would wake her or the good dreams of being with Vision, alive, that would make her want to never wake up. And even before sleep, the images and memories would come. The expression on Vision's face as she killed him, the feeling of hollow despair afterwards, the panic and horror as Thanos undid his death only to kill him again, so abruptly and effortlessly. The sense of relief as she realized she was one marked to die, as she felt her body turn to dust, and knew that in a moment her anguish would be over.

People talked about "the Orange." The orange glow that was a vague memory left in the minds of those who had died in the Snap. There had been plenty of speculation on what it was, what it meant: A memory of the afterlife? The afterglow of the power Thanos had used for the Snap? Only she seemed to remember the horizon, the ground beneath her, the orange glow of a featureless sky. She hadn't understood, then. She hadn't bothered to think about it. All she'd known was Vision was gone, and the end to her pain promised by death hadn't come. The promised oblivion hadn't come. Her power had reacted of its own accord, spreading out in all directions as if searching for an escape—from that place, from her pain—red tendrils growing, creeping, squeezing into every crack and corner of unseen dimensions. She knew where she was. She knew what the Infinity Stones really were. (Such a silly, limited thing to call them: _stones._ As if they were truly small, discrete, solid objects like that name implied. It would have been more accurate to simply call them _infinities,_ though even that was only partly accurate. But she supposed the limited minds of those who had not seen needed something to grasp onto, to let themselves believe they were dealing with something comprehensible.) Everyone else remembered the Orange as having no dimension of time. It had been as if they'd experienced turning to dust, seen an instantaneous orange flash, and found themselves back on Earth as if Thanos had never happened. She remembered being in the orange dimension for what felt like days, her body immobile as her power swirled around her, consumed with grief.

And then something gripped her, some fog enveloped her, and she'd found herself lying in a dark, warm place, surrounded by alien trees.

 _Flashback:_

 _One hundred and six hours after the Snap._

"What is it?"

"There's something there."

Wanda didn't recognize the voice. Or care. Her eyes were open, and she saw someone come up to her through the trees. Blue, shaped like a woman. A light shone from somewhere on her body.

"Looks Terran. She's alive."

Someone came up next to her. Bruce Banner.

"Oh my God, it's... How is that possible? It's Wanda!" Bruce knelt next to her, checked her for injuries. "Wanda, are you okay? How did you get here?"

She didn't try to answer. She didn't care. Why couldn't she just be dead? Just be over?

Nat ran over to them. She was injured, bruises and cuts on the left half of her body. Wanda couldn't bring herself to care about that either.

"You know this Terran?" the blue woman asked.

"She's our friend. But...she died. She turned to dust in the Snap."

This caused a reaction in the blue woman's face. Her eyes widened. She looked at Nat, then back at Wanda. Her expression was pensive. "It can be undone..."

There was another voice a little ways off. It sounded familiar. It sounded like that woman who guarded King T'Challa, the one who had fought beside her in Wakanda. "Who goes there?"

"I'm Star Lord. Who are you?"

The blue woman looked up. Though her expression didn't reveal anything, the speed with which she rose to her feet did. "Quill."

Wanda took in everything that was happening around her passively. It didn't matter to her. What did it matter how she got there, or where she had been? Vision was dead.

After Dr. Banner cleared her of physical injuries, Steve carried her to some kind of spaceship and put her in a bed.

He sat next to her for a while. "I'm so sorry, Wanda. I failed. I tried to protect Vision. I couldn't. Thanos was too strong. Please forgive me."

She wasn't sure if she couldn't respond or if she just didn't feel like it. She didn't want to speak, or think, or feel.

"We don't know how you're here. What happened to you? How did you get here?"

Eventually, when nothing he said elicited an answer, he left.

Nat came in, with food and water. She put it on a table next to her. "Hey Wanda. You hungry?"

She wasn't. She was thirsty, though. So thirsty her throat felt like a desert. But she didn't reach for the water. She didn't care about her discomfort.

Nat looked like she didn't know what to say. "So, I'm guessing you don't know: we're not on Earth. We're on a planet with a name I can't pronounce. Nebula knew about a secret base Thanos had here. She figured he'd show up here, so we set up an ambush. We lost. Thanos used the Gauntlet twice, once to turn the Hulk into jelly, and then he used the Space Stone to get away. We found you around where he used the Reality Stone and that guy Quill where he used the Space Stone, so we think what might have happened is when he used the Gauntlet it somehow brought you back."

She said nothing.

"What do you remember?" Nat asked.

She didn't. She didn't want to remember.

Nat look at her with concern, then left her alone.

A little later, someone else came in. He looked at her for a minute, then turned on some music. She recognized it as some American song from decades ago.

"I'm Peter Quill. I'm from Earth, but that's a long story."

She didn't care.

"So, they told me about you, Wanda. You and I were both dusted by Thanos. It shouldn't be possible that we're back, but we are." He stooped down to her eye level. "But who cares how we're back. Thanos is still out there. He killed my girlfriend, his own daughter. He murdered her for the Soul Stone. Only she knew where it was. She told me to kill her so he couldn't get her, so she couldn't tell him where to find it."

Wanda raised her head slightly.

"She begged me to shoot her, when Thanos had her. I didn't think I could do it. But...I pulled the trigger. I would've killed her, the woman I love, to stop Thanos. But it didn't work. That bastard turned the bullets into bubbles. He took her. And he..." His voice cracked. "He killed her."

Wanda sat up. She looked into his mind, seeing her own pain mirrored there, and rage, and hate.

"They told me he murdered your boyfriend," he said. "Right in front of you."

"For the Mind Stone," she said. "He told me to destroy it, even though we both knew it would kill him." Talking about it, acknowledging it, felt like stabbing a knife into her own chest. "I did."

This man, Quill, reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. They just looked at each other, the only two people who knew the feeling.

"To do something like that, to force yourself to do that, and have Thanos just..." Quill said, breath tight.

Wanda felt like she was choking, like she was suffocating. "He took back time. Brought him back, and killed him. Thanos killed him." She wasn't weeping, but her words were quivering, catching in her throat as she tried to get them out while not being able to breathe.

Quill put his other hand on her other shoulder, looking her in the eyes. "We're going to find him. And we're going to kill him."

She nodded. Her numbness, despair, her loss were transmuted into hatred, vengeance, and resolve.


	6. The Shadow of the Sword

Chapter 6: The Shadow of the Sword

Put blossoms in your caps today. Who knows  
That there will still be life when spring comes round?

~Murasaki Shikibu, trans. Edward Seidensticker

Bruce watched the Quinjet land at the Avengers compound. He hurried toward it as Natasha stepped out.

"Nat."

Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him for a long moment, considerably longer than her embraces usually lasted.

No one else came out of the Quinjet; it looked like her plan to find Wanda and talk her into coming back hadn't worked out.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah." She finally drew back. She looked tired and subdued.

"Did you find her?"

She nodded.

"I take it it didn't go as planned," he noted.

"Remember when Vision said Wanda had to destroy the Mind Stone?"

"Yeah. And she said she wouldn't even discuss it."

Nat looked off into the distance. "She did it. She went through with it. But Thanos used Strange's Time Stone to get it anyway."

"Oh my God," Bruce said as the gravity of that act sank in. "She killed him, and it didn't even stop Thanos? No wonder she's...like this."

"I can't imagine... If I were put in a position where I had to kill you to save other people's lives, I can't imagine actually going through with it. And I'm a trained assassin; I was conditioned for years to be able to kill without feeling anything. I can't imagine what it did to her. She loved Vision so much."

Bruce had been able to tell that even with the short time he'd seen them together, on the flight to Wakanda. They'd struck him as a strange couple: the superbot with J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice and programming and the woman who had tried to prevent them from bringing him to life, the woman he still remembered best from the time she'd gotten into his head and caused him to Hulk out and smash Johannesburg. It had been a shock when Steve told him on that first phone call that Vision was on vacation in Edinburgh, that he was with Wanda, that Wanda was an Avenger. Even knowing that they were vacationing together, he hadn't realized they were romantically involved until he saw the way they looked at each other when Vision said she would have to destroy the Stone.

He had once wanted to kill Wanda Maximoff, but she really was just a kid.

A kid with a broken heart and unimaginable cosmic powers. The world was in trouble.

And Nat knew that.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked.

"Try to find her again, give her an untraceable cell phone she can call me with, be there for her, be her friend. It's going to take me a while to talk her in."

"And how many people will she break before you can?"

"I'm more worried about the people who might try to stop her. If S.H.I.E.L.D. tries, good people are gonna get killed. She's gotten more powerful."

"More powerful than being able to move things with her mind and get into people's head?" he asked.

Nat glanced around, even though they werd completely alone out on the lawn. "I don't want word of this to get out, but she can teleport now. She's wasn't able to do that before."

"That's how she escaped from the HYDRA base?"

"And probably how she got in. And that's how she gave me the slip in Sokovia. I can't figure out how she's doing it. We know the Space Stone can let people teleport, and there are a couple of cases in S.H.I.E.L.D. records, but it doesn't seem consistent with her abilities."

"No, it doesn't. It would be a useful skill to have on our side."

"No kidding." She started walking toward the building.

"Did she say anything about Thanos?" he asked, turning to follow her.

"That he's alive, but he's somewhere where he can't hurt anyone."

"Not the best news, but it could be worse."

"Yeah." She stopped before they reached the doors and turned to him. "Bruce, if there were ever a situation where you had to let me die to save innocent lives, what would you do?"

He stared at her. He understood why she'd asked that question, but wished she hadn't. "I don't know, honestly. I know what I logically should choose, but I don't know what I would do in the moment. I think maybe I couldn't do it. It couldn't be me."

"But if it had to be you?"

"I don't think the Other Guy would let me. He'd smash the world himself to keep you from being hurt."

He watched her expresdion closely, but couldn't tell how she felt about it. He kind of assumed she would be disappointed in him. But it was the truth, and she should know it.

She only said, "I'll keep that in mind."

...

... ... ...

...

 _Flashback:_

 _90 Earth hours after the Snap._

All nine of them were crowded on the bridge of the spaceship: Nat, Bruce, Steve, Tony, Rhodes, Thor, Okoye, Rocket, and Nebula, who was at the controls. She and Rocket were the only ones who knew how to pilot the ship, though with how attentively Tony was watching, he would have it down in no time.

"What is the name of this planet?" Thor inquired.

"Ewvieb," Nebula replied.

"I've never heard of it."

"It's been uninhabited for some time. The sentient species of this planet swore eternal war on Thanos after he came through the first time. They killed one of his favorite acolytes, so he came back and flooded the atmosphere with poisonous gas that killed all animal life. Only plants, fungi, and microscopic organisms survived. Thanos used it as a kind of lab to see how the ecosystem would rebalance. He has a base on the central plateau of the southern continent."

"What makes you so sure Thanos will come here?" Rocket asked.

"Because he has to go somewhere, and he doesn't know I know about this one."

Nat thought under other circumstances she might like Nebula. She felt like she and the gloomy blue cyborg had a lot in common. But she wasn't in any mood to make new friends, not when the chances were so high that they wouldn't all survive this.

"So what's the plan?" Tony asked.

"Once I've finished scanning for heat signatures, we'll know if he's there already. If he is, we attack. If not, we set up on the surface and wait for him," Nebula answered.

They landed about an hour later. Nat followed the others off the ship.

This was her first alien planet. It was weird. The trees didn't look like any Earth trees—they had green trunks and fanning spindles and tendrils instead of leaves—but they were recognizeably trees. The ground was covered in layers and layers of leafless green vines that shifted under their feet. It felt like walking on ropes. Gravity felt slightly stronger here than on Earth.

"We're far enough from the entrance of the base that he won't detect us immediately when he arrives," Nebula said. "At least if he doesn't happen to materialize within sight of the ship. We should take this time to acclimate ourselves, get used to the terrain and the oxygen level. We're going to be fighting here."

"You heard her, folks. Let's get the lay of the land," Tony said.

He was putting up such a brave front, Nat thought, but she could see right through it. Pepper was gone, lost in the Snap, and Tony wasn't planning to survive. But then, they were all in the same boat. They'd each lost too much, and they would avenge the universe on Thanos or die trying.

She gravitated to Bruce. They wandered into the forest.

"This place is kind of beautiful," Bruce commented.

"Anything like the last alien world you found yourself on?" she asked.

"The last one was Asgard, and no. Asgard was beautiful, at least before it went up in flames, but you could tell people lived there. This place looks untouched."

"And the other planet, Sakaar?"

"Pretty much the exact opposite of this."

"This place is kind of what Thanos wants every planet to look like."

Bruce looked slightly chastised by that statement, like he'd just remembered the tragic history that made this planet what it was.

"But it is beautiful," Nat hastily added. "Though how quiet it is gives me the creeps."

No bugs, no birds, not even the sound of wind rustling leaves, since there were no leaves.

Bruce seemed to be thinking along similar lines. "It does seem kind of...overgrown, I guess."

"Maybe we could get the Hulk to pull down some of these trees."

"Yeah, then maybe we could see the forest."

She smiled at his attempt at a joke, then grew serious. "We could really use the Big Guy if Thanos does show up. Think there's any chance?"

"I don't know. If he didn't come out when we really needed him back on Earth, I don't know what would bring him out here."

"I...kind of have an idea," she said.

"What?"

She glanced back the way they'd come. They were well out of sight and earshot of the others. "Well, if mortal danger doesn't bring him out, and rage doesn't bring him out, maybe we can tempt him out."

"How?"

She pivoted and stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. She slid her hands up his shoulders, then down his chest. "How do you think?"

He tensed up, staring at her. "You're serious."

"I think it's worth a shot."

The pattern of his breathing, the dilation of his pupils, the way he licked his lips told her he was interested. "It could work," he agreed.

She stepped closer to him and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

"You sure about this, Nat? Are you sure it's worth the risk?"

She unbuttoned the second one. "I'm sure the Hulk will be more valuable in a battle against Thanos than me."

Third button.

"He might not show up."

"Then I guess we're just messing around." She slid his shirt off and tossed it over a rock.

He swallowed. "Yeah."

Her fingertips trailed down his bare chest, down his abdomen. She slipped her fingers around his belt and tugged him against her. "Kiss me, Bruce," she whispered.

He took her invitation, pressing his lips to hers tentatively at first, but when she kissed him back passionately he responded in kind. His arms wrapped around her.

Her lips didn't leave his as her fumbling fingers loosened his belt. He found the zipper at the back of her suit and slowly pulled it down. Then she backed away.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly.

"Don't be." She slowly stripped down to her underwear, keeping her eyes fixed on him as he gazed at her.

"Oh God, Nat..."

"We should've done this a long time ago." She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips as her lips devoured his. He lowered them to the ground, laying back with her on top.

And then she felt him grow, felt his muscles expand, his arms and legs lengthen. Bruce groaned in pain as his body reshaped itself.

She sat up, and looked down at the Hulk. She was afraid—she hadn't forgotten the first time she faced the Hulk on the helicarrier—but she didn't show it. Instead, she smiled. "Hey there, big guy."

"Pretty girl," Hulk said, making it sound like a name, or a title. It kind of surprised her. Thor had told her how much more controlled and talkative Hulk was when he found him on Sakaar, but seeing it for herself was something else.

"I haven't seen you in a while. I missed you."

"Hulk missed Pretty Girl."

"I'm glad you're back. I've heard you had quite an adventure."

He sat up, plucked her off him, and turned away.

"What's wrong?" She reached out, placing her hand on his bicep.

"Hulk lose fight."

"It's okay."

"Hulk friends die. Angry girl die. Rock man die. Gold eyes die. Purple man too strong. Stronger than Hulk."

She moved to make him look at her. "Hey, no one wins all their fights. And if we fight Thanos together—you, me, Thor, Iron Man, Cap—this time, we can win."

"No. Hulk fight, Hulk die." He reached out his enormous hand and gently touched her hair. "Pretty girl fight, Pretty girl die."

She put her hand on his. "Maybe. But Thanos has killed zillions of people, including our friends, and we're not going to let him get away with it. I'm going to fight. So is Banner. Our chances of not dying are a lot better if you're with us."

Hulk looked at her for a long moment. Then he nodded decisively. "Hulk fight. Hulk smash Thanos."

She smiled. "That's my boy." Slowly, she moved toward him and placed a light kiss at the corner of his lips. Then she took his hand, kissed his fingertips one by one, and ran her fingers down his palm, over his wrist. She held his hand as it shrank back down to human size.

"It worked," he said.

"Yeah."

"The Hulk really likes you."

She smirked. "You're not jealous of him, are you Banner?"

"I...don't know. Should I be?" There was no insinuation in the question, only legitimate confusion.

"If we survive this, I think we've got some things to work out. In the meantime," She stradled him and draped her hands over his shoulders, "shall we finish what we started?"

"Are you sure this is a good time?" he asked.

"This is a terrible time. But we might never get another one."

"Good point." He pulled her into a kiss.


	7. Malice

Chapter 7: Malice

The pang, the curse, with which they died,  
Had never pass'd away:  
I could not draw my een from theirs  
Ne turn them up to pray.

And in its time the spell was snapt,  
And I could move my een:  
I look'd far-forth, but little saw  
Of what might else be seen.

Like one, that on a lonely road  
Doth walk in fear and dread,  
And having once turn'd round, walks on  
And turns no more his head:  
Because he knows, a frightful fiend  
Doth close behind him tread.

~Samuel Taylor Coleridge, from "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner"

 _Present_

The more he looked at the featureless horizon, the more convinced he grew that he could see the curvature of the Earth. Or whatever this god-forsaken planet was called.

He sometimes thought about naming it. There was no other sentient being living here, so there was no one else to give it a name. On the other hand, there was no one to talk about it _with,_ so no reason to give it a name, either.

There were clouds in the distance. Tall, bulbous cumulonimbus clouds, somewhere between teal and gray in color. He hoped they came closer. He preferred the cloudy days. The changing shapes of clouds gave him something new to look at. If he were very lucky, it would snow, and he could build a little igloo to keep out the cold, and for a few days it would cover the garrish aqua blue of the ice. The perfectly flat, perfectly featureless ice that covered every square foot of this planet, not counting the shallow puddles that sometimes formed on the ice's surface in the middle of the day.

For a while, the silence of this planet had been peaceful, the endless emptiness tranquil, but when the days passed into weeks and...however long it had been now, the silence was all he could feel.

He wondered if he'd been banished to this planet in particular because there wasn't a hill high enough to jump off or a puddle deep enough to drown himself in.

Suddenly a blue cloud filled with lightning appeared a few steps away. A woman emerged.

He gasped. "Gamora?"

She looked around, folded her arms against the cold. "Thanos," she said evenly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a whisper. He took a step toward her, reaching out with one hand (the right hand; his left arm was still growing back).

She gave his outstretched hand a disdainful glance. "I'm looking for you." Her voice softened somewhat. "I've been looking for you for days. When I found out you were here..." She sighed. "I know what you did, before they changed the timeline. You went through with your crazy plan to murder half the universe, starting with me. But...I just can't stand the thought of you being stuck here, alone, for the rest of your life."

The sight of her, the forgiveness in her words, touched him to the core. "You're really here?"

"Not for long, I hope. It's so damn cold. Let's get out of here."

He smiled. A tear came to his eye. "Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you...Ah!" Gamora's eyes widened in sudden pain. They both looked down at the spearhead protruding from her stomach.

"Gamora!"

Thanos could only watch in shock as Gamora crumpled to the ground, dead. And standing behind her, still holding the spear with Gamora's blood dripping from it, was _her_ , the little witch from Earth.

He stared at her. "Why?!"

She stared back at him. "Yes, Thanos: why? Why did you murder your own daughter?"

The witch had done it to him again. And again, he'd believed it: believed Gamora was really there, felt her death with all the sharpness of the first time.

He tried to lunge at her, to kill her, but he couldn't move.

"You brought this on yourself, Thanos," Wanda said, taking a step toward him. "Are you really so deluded to believe your precious Gamora could ever forgive you, after all the things you've done to her? She will never come. Even if you hadn't killed her, she would never forgive you."

He looked at Gamora's corpse, her blood spreading over the turquoise ice. It still felt real.

"You have failed, Thanos. You have lost everything, and it has gained nothing." Gamora's body disappeared. "And after all that, you imagine deep down she might come back to you? No, Thanos. There can be no redemption, for you or for me. You murdered the god of redemption. Remember? You plucked his Mind Stone out of his head."

Gamora was kneeling in front of him, eyes staring at him in pure fear, silently pleading for her life. He watched in helpless horror as his own hand reached out and tore a hole in her forehead.

"Want to know an easy way to tell that your plan is evil? If it requires killing a being of pure _good_ to accomplish it."

"Stop," he begged her.

Gamora was alive again. She looked plaintively up at him, gripped in a mesh of red lightning.

"Father, _please..."_

With all the emotional certainty of a dream, he felt she was really there, calling for his help, but he still couldn't move.

"Did you really think you could end the suffering of the sentient beings of the universe by ripping us in half?"

Gamora died again. Her scream of anguish echoed in his own heart.

Then she was gone, along with that little witch, and Thanos was left with the empty sound of the wind across the ice once again. She'd left him alone again, until the next time she returned to torment him.


	8. Witch Hunt

Chapter 8: Witch Hunt

When I was a girl by Nilus stream  
I watched the desert stars arise;  
My lover, he who dreamed the Sphinx,  
Learned all his dreaming from my eyes.

I bore in Greece a burning name,  
And I have been in Italy  
Madonna to a painter-lad,  
And mistress to a Medici.

And have you heard (and I have heard)  
Of puzzled men with decorous mien,  
Who judged—The wench knows far too much—  
And burnt her on the Salem green?

~Adelaide Crapsey, "The Witch"

S.H.I.E.L.D. was formed to protect the public from threats they didn't understand and couldn't defend themselves from, and whether the Avengers liked it or not, Wanda Maximoff definitely qualified. It wasn't because she was dangerous—Fury fully believed in the worth of dangerous individuals, otherwise he never would have implemented the Avengers Initiative—it was because she was using her power wildly, attacking whoever she judged deserving of it. Attacking on a level where humans weren't equipped to defend themselves.

He didn't believe Maximoff was truly evil, but she did have to be stopped.

Fury had taken a page from Romanoff's book and studied the pattern of the Scarlet Witch's attacks. Then he'd arranged a summit between an oil baron, an influential religious leader, a prince, and a warlord. The conflict of interests between these four individuals had led to years of undeclared war that left hundreds of innocent people dead and thousands more maimed, injured, ill, and starving.

He watched the four men on one of the dozens of screens in the control room. They were in a lavishly decorated dining room, each accompanied by an entourage of advisers, translators, and various other hangers-on. Each thought another had issued the invitation, arranged the meeting, paid for the rental of the hotel on the private Mediterrannean island. Each of them had brought their own bodyguards, and none of them had guessed every single driver, gardener, cook, server, and janitor on the island was a well-armed S.H.I.E.L.D. operative. They might not even be aware of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s existence. Certainly S.H.I.E.L.D. had no beef with any of them. They were bait; that was all.

They'd been in there almost two hours and hadn't stopped yelling at each other. Frankly, Fury didn't care if Maximoff got to them first.

There were hidden cameras monitoring every approach to the island, concealed guns, both manned and automated, ready to shoot at anyone on land or sky. The bullets would simultaneously deliver a chemical tranquilizer and an elecrtic shock. If she somehow got past the guns, there were teams of operatives hidden throughout the building. The hotel—built to look innocent, inviting, and old—had walls of reinforced steel under carved wood panels and flor-de-lis wallpaper, trap doors, hidden corridors, and metal barriers ready to spring shut at the push of a button. If Maximoff got in, she wouldn't get out.

He drank some coffee, looking over each screen.

Hill came in. "Got more coffee?"

"Yeah."

She poured herself a cup and sipped it, looking over the screens. "We've got a couple more days for her to show up before the summit's over, or those morons kill each other. If she doesn't show up, maybe we can stick around for a little vacation."

"She'll show. This lot's too juicy to pass up."

"That might be the thing," Hill said. "She might guess it's a trap."

"Not many people think that much like you. If they did, our jobs would be a lot harder."

She shrugged. "We'll see. Want to switch out?"

"Nah, I'm good. Check back in an hour."

Hill nodded and left.

A few minutes later, a light started flashing on a panel. It indicated an unexpected energy discharge. Fury checked the location number, and his eye darted to the corresponding screen.

Wanda Maximoff was there, standing in an empty hall on the third floor.

"What the hell? Target on site! Third floor, central hall. Team Five, intercept. Energy dampeners at the ready."

 _"Copy."_

" _How the hell did she get in there?"_ Hill asked.

"Don't know. Be ready for anything." He watched the operatives of Team 5 file out of a hotel room and move silently down the hall. On another screen, Maximoff paused and changed direction, heading down another hall.

"Looks like she somehow sensed your presence, Team Five. She's heading to the stairwell. Team Two, look alive. Wait for her out of sight at the ground floor. We know where she's headed." His eye moved to the screen showing the stairwell.

He flipped a switch that activated energy dampeners embedded in the walls. They created distortion waves calibrated to prevent inhumans from using their powers. It was a technology S.H.I.E.L.D. had been secretly developing for years.

She didn't bother with the stairs. She jumped off.

Lights twinkled on and off along the power surge sensor panel. Fury stared at it, then the screens. She was floating, her hands surrounded by the red glow of her power, guiding her fall. The energy dampeners seemed to have zero effect. She didn't even seem to notice them.

At the ground floor, she paused at the door and did something with her fingers. The video feed cut out.

He looked at the screen of the hallway. Team 2 was in place. The door burst open and they opened fire. A second later, Maximoff walked out, right into the hail of bullets. They exploded harmlessly against a wall of red energy. And in another second, the bullets stopped. The operatives of Team 2 stared forward blankly as she walked between them.

On the screen showing the dining room, the arguing had stopped at the sound of gunshots. The double doors flew open. Strands of red light shot into the room, seeking out heads. The attendees one by one fell still. Maximoff walked among them. She turned around, looked directly at the hidden camera. He felt like she was staring directly at him, and she looked...displeased.

"Initiating lockdown," Fury announced. He hit the button, and barriers went down over every door in the building.

He lost the video feed from the dining room.

"All teams, sound off."

 _"Team One in position at basement stairs."_

 _"Team Three in position, ground floor east entrance."_

 _"Team Four on first floor. Target is in sight. Repeat, target in sight. Awaiting orders."_

That made no sense. That would mean Maximoff not only got through the barriers but went right through the ceiling. "What do you think your goddam orders are? Take her down!"

He couldn't see what was happening—the screen showing that hallway had already gone blank—but the power surge indicator lights for that sector were going crazy. Then they went dark.

"Team Four, report."

No answer.

"Team Four?"

Hill came on the line. _"Sir, there's a situation in the north courtyard."_

The control room was in was in an outbuilding in the north courtyard.

Fury looked at the screens with eyes on the north courtyard and saw Maximoff flying through the air, surrounded by a ball of red light. Bullets, high-power lasers, and bolts of electricity from automated weapons were missing her.

With a twirl of her hand, she yanked a wall off the outbuilding.

Fury closed his eye against the sudden brightness that filled the room. He managed to draw his gun before he felt his body gripped with what felt like static electricity but about a thousand times stronger. It threw him back and pinned him against the wall.

"Nick Fury."

The power holding him immobile didn't prevent him from speaking. "Miss Maximoff, it's been a long time."

"Since Sokovia. It's amazing how much things have changed. I'm barely the same person I was back then, and you're trying to kill me."

While her one hand projected the energy that held him in place, the fingers of her other hand were fidgeting, levitating a chair, a coffee mug, a pen, a doorstop, and some rubble around the room in an almost careless manner. It was almost like she was playing around, challenging herself.

"You're a threat to world security. Our job is to keep the world safe. That used to be your job too, if you recall."

"The way I see it, I'm still doing that. Just in a different way, a more 'get to them first' kind of way."

"'Proactive' is the world I think you're looking for."

"Yes. Exactly. You don't have to bother explaining that you disagree with my methods. I knew that already. Is it too much to ask that you just stay out of my way?"

"Yeah, that is too much to ask. You might think you're doing the right thing, Maximoff, but you're not really thinking about the consequences. You're spreading fear and chaos, creating instability that's making the world a more dangerous place."

"Punishments always have unwanted consequences. That isn't a good enough reason to stop punishing those who deserve it."

"I'm more concerned with keeping people safe than punishing them."

"I guess that puts us on different sides," she said regretfully. "Can you answer a question for me, Mr. Fury? Who do you love?"

What kind of question was that? Had he heard her right?

"What?"

"I'm not sure you have a reason to live." She set down each item she'd been levitating, gently and upright, then shifted her hand to face him. Then she paused, turned her head. Her hand raised just as Hill burst through the door. Bullets hit a red shield. "Whatever," Wanda muttered.

And then she was gone. Or he was. He was on a Quinjet. He didn't remember where they were going, but it was urgent. It was a matter of life and death.

Hill was there.

"Where are we going?" he asked her.

"Don't you know? I thought you knew." Her eyes widened. "Behind you!"

He turned and stabbed an assailant just as he launched at him. Human body, but his head was a skull with tentacles coming off it. The HYDRA fell dead, but there were two more behind him.

Hill shot them. "This is just a distraction. We're running out of time. You have to get to the pilot! We need to turn this plane around!"

Fury made his way to the front of the plane, fighting his way through more HYDRA operatives. But instead of a Quinjet, it became a passenger jet. Civilians stared out the windows, looks of horror on their faces. Some screamed, some cried, some prayed. He didn't have time to see what they were looking at.

He kicked down the door to the cockpit. But there was no one there. He rushed to take the controls, then froze. There was a cobra slithering across the control panel.

It took him a moment to recover. With a quick strike, he cut off the serpent's head.

He grabbed the controls, but they didn't respond. He disabled auto-pilot. Nothing he did had any effect.

"What did you do?"

He looked back at a woman in a dark green flight attendant uniform. He couldn't make out her face.

"I'm trying to fly the plane."

"You killed the pilot."

He frowned in confusion, looking around for a body.

"Don't you understand? The snake was flying the plane!"

"That's impossible. What's wrong with this plane?" he demanded. "Why can't I fly it?"

"You can't control everything. And you can't stop everything."

He looked out the front window.

Pools of flame in the darkness. Pillars of smoke rose on the horizon, dark streaks in the dawn sky. The world was on fire, whole cities burning. Millions were dying. And this was only the beginning.

He smelled coffee.

"You back with us, Fury?"

It was Natasha Romanoff's voice. He was in the control room, daylight and an ocean breeze coming in through the missing wall.

Natasha handed him a mug. "Irish coffee. Ultimate comfort drink: caffeine, sugar, fat, alcohol, and warmth. I got all the ingredients from the hotel bar, so I hope nothing was spiked."

Fury stared at the drink, wondering if this was real or not.

"I know. It sucks. It doesn't feel like a hallucination; it feels like a revelation." She mixed up another mug of the coffee cocktail, which she carried across the room to Hill, who was sitting on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chest.

"What did she do to us?" Fury asked.

"The way she described it to me once is that she uncages people's inner demons. It might be memories, fears, questions we refuse to ask ourselves, possibilities we're too afraid to contemplate, things about ourselves we just don't want to face."

"It seemed so real, even the things that made no damn sense. I felt like I was seeing into the future."

"Well, Thor kind of saw the future when it happened to him. He saw Vision, the destruction of Asgard, and Thanos's gauntlet. But it's way more likely to be your fears or your projections about the future than anything that will actually happen." She made an Irish coffee for herself and sat down on the floor in front of him. "For me it was memories, mostly. For my entire career in S.H.I.E.L.D. and with the Avengers, I always had this nagging doubt in the back of my mind that I could ever make up for my past, that I could ever overcome my conditioning, ever be anything but an assassin. After that dream, that doubt turned into conviction. It took me a while to get over it."

Fury took a drink and let the coffee and alcohol warm him. The images from the dream or whatever it was were still sharp in his mind; they felt more real than the world in front of him. "How did you get here, Romanoff?"

"I took a boat. I figured Wanda would come here, take advantage of four despicable humans being in the same room. I wasn't surprised to find it was a S.H.I.E.L.D. operation. But I was too late. You were out of it, and she was already gone. And can I just say, it was a dumb move to go after Wanda without me. I probably know her better than anyone else alive."

"You couldn't be counted on to stop her."

"I'm trying to stop her. True, I'm not willing to use lethal methods, but how well is that working out for you?"

"Lethal methods..."

Fury and Nat both looked at Hill. Those were the first words she'd spoken.

"I was in a dark building," she said. "We were all there, trying to fight our way out. I didn't recognize the place. Everyone was shooting. It was too dark to make out anyone's face. Every time I chose to shoot someone, they turned out to be a friend." She looked at Fury. "I killed you." She shifted her eyes to Nat. "And you. And Stark, Barton, Coulson, May. But any time I chose not to shoot, it was a hostile. Any choice I made was the wrong one."

"It wasn't real," Nat said. "I know it felt like it. I know it felt more intense than reality. But it wasn't."

Hill seemed to not even notice the cup in her hands. "She took on a building full of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. What is she?"

"The energy dampeners didn't even slow her down," Fury said. "Whatever the source of her power is, it's like nothing else we've dealt with."

"The source of her power is the Mind Stone," Nat said. "Not that that tells us much. _Ignotum per ignotius—_ explaining the unknown with the more unknown. You know she gained her powers during HYDRA experiments. The Mind Stone was in Loki's scepter at the time. The HYDRA scientists exposed people to it for protracted lengths of time, just experimenting to see what it would do to them. Most of the test subjects died. Wanda and her brother were the only survivors, and from what little I've heard Wanda say about it, their survival was in serious doubt for a few days. The scientists wouldn't go near them. Their bodies were giving off some kind of unknown radiation. They both had wild hallucinations. Or visions; it's not exactly clear. Wanda said she'd never felt so sick in her life. They recovered, but suddenly had powers they didn't know how to control. Some of their HYDRA handlers died those first few days, from accidents. And Wanda couldn't just move things with her mind, she could see things she didn't understand, pick up on the feelings of the people around her. She felt like she'd gone crazy. She didn't understand how the scepter had given her those powers. The HYDRA experimenters didn't really understand it either. Even Vision, who had the Mind Stone literally in his head, didn't know how it had given Wanda her powers. But I think Wanda might know more now. I think she might have figured it out. But at any rate, Wanda is a being of unique power. Her power and her knowledge may be the key to answering fundamental questions about the nature of the universe. Knowledge that could save us if a threat like Thanos comes around again. And you're okay with just killing her? Losing that power and knowledge to make the human affairs of this one little planet a little bit more predictable? To bring Earth a little more in line with what you think it should be?"

Neither Fury nor Hill had a reply for that.

"Point taken, Romanoff," he said.

She took a swig of her drink. "Next time, call me. We're bringing her in alive or not at all."


	9. What's Left

Chater 9: What's Left

Do not let your tears fall.  
Pick them up, drop by drop, from the floor.  
Even if all your tears are drained away,  
Neither heaven nor earth can help you.

~Du Fu, from _The White Pony: An Anthology of Chinese Poetry_

 _4 Earth hours after the Snap_

Tony's side hurt like hell. His everything hurt like hell.

He didn't know if Nebula didn't have anesthetic or if she just didn't bother to use it. Even having known her for just a few hours, he guessed it was the latter.

But as much as it hurt, the mechanical component she'd implanted in his side at least made him feel like he wasn't going to die anymore.

"You some kind of doctor?" he asked her as she knitted the implant to his musculature with a tiny electric probe. His damaged Iron Man suit lay in a heap a few feet away, next to the shredded and bloodsoaked remains of his clothes.

"Hardly. Let's just say I've got a lot of experience with broken things."

She was impossible to read. He couldn't tell if she was sad, coy, angry, amused, or what.

"I kind of do, too. This isn't the first time I've had a piece of technology keeping me alive. For years the only thing keeping shrapnel out of my heart was an electromagnet embedded in my chest. I guess I'm kind of part machine."

"Are you trying to make me identify with you?" She sounded confused about why he would bother.

"I'm just trying to make conversation."

She shifted her eyes from the implant she was calibrating to his face. "You fought well against Thanos. Perhaps knowing Quill has led me to underestimate Terrans."

"How many of us have you met?"

"Few."

He wanted to ask her to elaborate, but didn't have much hope that she would. Besides, he had so many other questions.

"So what's your story? You knew the woman Quill was looking for? Gamora?"

She paused. He tried to discern any flicker of emotion on her face, to no avail.

"It's complicated."

He shrugged the shoulder he could move without excruciating pain. "We've got a long flight."

She glanced toward the controls. They'd taken Quill's ship, as Nebula had crashed hers into Thanos. "About five more hours," she said.

"That's enough time to get to know each other a little," he said.

"I want to kill Thanos. You want to kill Thanos. What more do we need to know about each other?"

He looked at her for a moment. He gestured to the robotic side of her face. "Did Thanos do that to you?"

"Yes."

"Was it a battle? Torture?"

She tilted her head like she was trying to decide how much to tell him. "I knew Gamora," she said. "She's my sister."

He wondered if that was related to his question or if she was trying to change the subject. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Our relationship was complicated."

"Family's always complicated."

"We were sisters in that we were raised together, by Thanos. He likes to kidnap children from the planets he decimates, indoctrinate them in his ideals. I think it's a way for him to try to justify his murders; he conceptualizes the destruction he rains down as salvation, and if he can convince someone from that population that he was right to do so, it eases his conscience. Gamora was always his favorite. He pitted us against each other. Gamora always won, and when I lost, Thanos would replace my weak flesh with strong robotic components. He was molding us both into killing machines; in my case, it was literal."

Her words were chilling. The woman in front of him had actually been raised by Thanos, shaped by him—psychologically and physically.

"For a long time I hated Gamora, hated her almost as much as I hated Thanos. But she was the only person in the universe who cared about me. And now she's dead."

Even this she said with no discernible emotion.

"I'm sorry."

"A lot of people lost the only person who cared about them today. A lot of people lost the only person they care about. Many of the survivors will never recover. The only thing special about me is that I know the man who caused it, and that I knew it was coming."

Tony thought about the battle of New York, when he'd put his life on the line to fly an atom bomb into the Chitauri invasion fleet, stopping Thanos without even a whispered hint of who Thanos was, or even that there was any outside force behind the Chitauri invasion.

He didn't feel so special anymore. He'd never felt less special in his entire life.

...

... ... ...

...

The spaceship landing on top of Stark Tower drew less security than Tony expected. Upon reflection, it was understandable. Even from here he could see wreckage, fires, streets choked with abandoned cars. A single news helicopter hovered around it. He waved to them as he walked out.

After a minute or two, Happy came out. His face was wan and puffy. He hugged Tony without a word.

"How bad is it?" Tony asked.

"I don't know. No one knows what's going on."

"Yeah. I can help with that."

"Tony..."

Happy's tone chilled him to the bone. "Pepper?"

The look on Happy's face and the length of the pause gave him the answer even before he said, "She's gone. She was one of the ones. I'm so sorry."

He thought he'd prepared himself for this. It was a 50/50 chance. But the confirmation of his worst fears was crushing. He couldn't move.

Happy looked at him, then past him. Nebula walked up next to him.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Nebula. I take it Stark got some bad news."

Happy seemed slightly disconcerted by talking to a blue cyborg. He gaped at her as he spoke. "Yeah. Pepper disappeared."

"Who is Pepper?"

Tony tried to answer, but as he mouthed the words "My fiancée," no sound came out.

"His fiancée," Happy answered.

"I see."

And then Tony broke. He sank to the rooftop, sobbing. Happy knelt next to him, patting his shoulder. Nebula stood impassively. The helicopter circled the rooftop.

"Can you help me get him inside?" Happy asked Nebula.

"Yes."

As they entered the building, FRIDAY said, "Good to have you back, Boss. You missed a crazy ride."

"FRIDAY, not now," said Happy.

"No, it's okay," Tony said. "FRIDAY, locate Rhodey."

"Location unknown."

"Locate Bruce Banner."

"Location unknown."

"Maria Hill?"

"Location unknown."

"Nick Fury."

"Location unknown."

"Natasha Romanoff."

"Location unknown."

"Steve Rogers."

"Location unknown."

"Got it."

He sat down in a quiet office. Happy handed him a tumbler of whiskey.

"Are they the help you were hoping to find?" Nebula asked, and he couldn't tell if she was sympathetic or irritated.

"Yeah."

"News that you're back is spreading fast, boss," FRIDAY reported. "You're getting a call from the U.N."

Tony bit his lip hard. The last thing he wanted right now was to try to explain what happened to a room of panicked diplomats. But the world needed to know. The world deserved answers.

"Put them on."

The screen on the wall lit up and Tony found himself looking into the face of a frazzled middle-aged Chinese woman.

"Mr. Stark, I'm Zhou Pumin, acting Secretary General of the U.N. I heard about Ms. Potts. I'm sorry."

Tony nodded, and took a swig of whiskey. "Thank you, Secretary Zhou. I'm sure you've got a lot of questions. The mass disappearance was caused by an alien..."

"Thanos. Yes. You don't need to say 'disappearance'. We know they're dead. People are starting to call it the Dusting."

He stared at her. "You know about Thanos?"

"I have been in contact with Princess Shuri and Dr. Banner in Wakanda. They wanted to be put in touch with you in case you returned. I've sent a message to Wakanda letting them know you're here. I'm sorry this is so sudden. I know you returned only a few minutes ago, in a spaceship, with an alien." She looked at Nebula, silent and still in the background of the room.

"This is Nebula. She's an expert on Thanos, she fought beside us when we tried to stop him, and she brought me back to Earth. And she saved my life." Right after saying it, Tony realized how true that was. Not only had she saved his life by treating his wounds, but by taking him with her when she'd left the planet in Quill's ship. He hadn't asked her to take him; she just had.

"Allow me to welcome you to Earth, Nebula," Secretary Zhou said. "And to offer our thanks for your assistance."

"I don't want thanks. This happened because of my failure."

"You tried to stop it. It is not blameworthy to try and fail, only to fail to try. Though I understand at times like this that has no comfort."

"What's it like out there?" Tony asked.

"It's bad. There's looting, rioting, protesters demanding answers. Right now we're focused on clearing roads, keeping the power grid up, providing medical care for survivors of countless of car crashes, dozens of plane crashes and train crashes. So many dead already, and so many more will die before it is over."

"Any resources Stark Industries can offer are at your disposal."

"That will be helpful. We are trying to get emergency supplies to hospitals. Clearing roads is the biggest problem for that. Your Iron Legion could be very helpful." She looked at something off screen. "We will continue this chat later, Mr. Stark. Princess Shuri has returned my message. I will connect you with her."

Tony nodded.

The screen switched to showing a very young woman with haunted eyes.

"You're Princess Shuri?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Stark. Unfortunately, my brother King T'Challa...is gone, so for now the leadership of Wakanda has fallen to me. I am a great admirer of yours, and I am sorrier than I can express that we're meeting under these circumstances."

"So am I. My condolences about your brother. He was a good man."

"Thank you. My condolences for your losses as well."

He didn't even know how much he'd lost yet. "I heard Bruce Banner is there?" He still couldn't think why Bruce would have ended up in Wakanda.

"Dr. Banner is resting. The battle was hard on him."

"What battle?"

"With Thanos's forces. But I am not the best person to tell you about it." She reached out and widened the field of view. Standing behind her was Steve Rogers.

Tony almost didn't recognize him at first: dressed in black, bearded, with dark lines under his eyes.

"Hello Tony."

"Cap."

Everything between them—their petty disagreements over the Sokovia Accords, even hiding the truth about Bucky—seemed inconsequential now. But their fight in Siberia and the words they'd exchanged there were not things he could just take back.

Steve looked past him into the room. "Happy."

"Good to see you, Cap," he replied.

Then to Nebula. "And who is this?"

"A friend. An enemy of Thanos. Nebula, this is Steve Rogers."

She gave him a formal nod. "A warrior, I gather?"

"Yeah." Introductions out of the way, Tony was once again at a loss on what to say. "What took you to Wakanda?"

"Long story. After...Siberia, King T'Challa invited me and Bucky here. They offered to freeze Bucky until they could find a way to deprogram him. He took them up on it. I got a look at their vibranium technology, their medical advancements, their defense systems. After Vision was attacked by Thanos's followers, we came up with the idea to bring him here so Shuri could try to surgically remove the Mind Stone, so Wanda could destroy it without harming him."

A twinge of hope flickered in him. "Did it work? Were you able to remove the Stone?"

Shuri shook her head. "I didn't have time. The moment Wanda left the operating room to join the battle, one of the aliens attacked. He must have just been waiting for her to leave."

Steve gave him a look of sympathy. "We tried, Tony. Everyone fought hard, but we couldn't keep Thanos from getting to Vision. He's dead."

Tony nodded, making no attempt to stop or hide the fresh tears coursing down his face. "I figured."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to stop Thanos."

"I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough to save Vision," Shuri added.

"Who do we have left?" Tony asked.

"Banner, Widow, Rhodey, Thor."

After a long pause, Tony said, "That's it?"

"We've also got a talking racoon who came with Thor. His name's Rocket."

Nebula looked up. "What about Groot?"

"Gone," Steve answered.

"Then Rocket will either be useless with grief or burning with vengeance." She stepped forward. "Tell Rocket I'm taking Quill's ship. I'm going to find Thanos and make him pay. I don't expect any of you to come with me, but I won't turn down anyone who wants to."

Tony took a quick, shuddering breath, thinking about Peter Parker, Pepper, Vision. He felt like he'd lost everything here. There was nothing left for him on Earth. "I'm going with you," he said. "We're the Avengers. If we can't save the universe, it's our job to avenge it."

Steve nodded. "I'm in. I won't speak for the others, but my guess is they're with us too."

"Check with them. We'll swing by Wakanda and pick up anyone who's still willing to fight."


	10. Solving for X

Chapter 10: Solving for X

Are ye the ghosts of fallen leaves,  
O flakes of snow,  
For which, through naked trees, the winds  
A-mourning go?

Or are ye angels, bearing home  
The host unseen  
Of truant spirits to be clad  
Again in green?

~John Bannister Tabb, "Phantoms"

 _Present:_

Tony, Bruce, and Natasha sat at a table across from King T'Challa, Okoye, and a young woman named Nakia, who despite her youth was apparently a high ranking operative in Wakanda's extensive intelligence network.

"Whoever is behind the attacks, it appears to be an extremely well organized operation. Since they're targeting both militias and peacekeeping forces, it's safe to conclude their goals are material rather than ideological," Nakia said.

"I don't know; stealing tanks and guns from all sides in a war zone could be meant to send a message, especially since they seem to be avoiding fatalities," Nat said.

Bruce raised his hand. "Are we completely sure a single person isn't behind this? I mean, I'm sorry if everyone else has already thought of this, but is this something Wanda could do?"

"Not her style," Tony stated.

"Besides," Nakia added, "soldiers sometimes wake up kilometers apart after these attacks. I don't see how one person could do that, no matter how powerful they are."

T'Challa spoke next. "One of our war dogs was able to get hold of blood samples from some of the victims after one attack. Our scientists' tests showed no chemical anomolies. So either the victims are being knocked unconscious by a gas that metabolyzes too quickly to detect, or the attackers are using some kind of electromagnetic, sonic, or psychic weapon."

"The U.N. investigators didn't find any unexplained chemical traces either," Tony said.

"I'm sorry we weren't able to provide more information," said Nakia.

"Well, now we know the U.N. isn't being specifically targeted," Tony said. "That's huge. And if those stolen guns show up on the blackmarket, we'll have a better chance to trace them."

"We'll let you know if we learn anything more," T'Challa assured them. "Whether we learn of any more attacks, or if we hear rumors of any of the stolen arms coming up for sale. In the meantime, I'm sure you would like to rest and have a meal before flying back to America."

"I'd like to have a workout before getting in the air," Nat said. "I haven't had a chance to train today."

Okoye smiled. "You up for some sparring?"

"Absolutely. Armed or unarmed?"

"We did armed last time. Nakia, do you wish to join us?"

Nakia rose from the table. "And finally get a chance to fight the Black Widow? I wouldn't miss it."

Tony watched the women leave the room. He would have loved to watch them train, for mostly appreciation of Nat and Okoye's fighting prowess and curiousity about Nakia's—mostly. But he and Bruce had something else to do while they were in Wakanda. "I would like to talk with Shuri if she's around."

"Of course. I'll have her meet you in her lab."

...

... ... ...

...

"I've retested the connections several times," Shuri said as she led them through her lab. "Switching his power to the miniaturized arc reactor you sent made no difference. All circuits I can find are conducting energy with no problem. As you suggested, Mr. Stark, I invited Dr. Cho to have a look at him in person. Her assessment agrees with mine."

She pulled off the cover draped over the rolling table, revealing Vision's body. The hole in his forehead had been repaired, but it still looked empty without the Mind Stone. The vibrant crimson of his complexion was only a memory, replaced with a deathlike pale gray.

"Physically, there's nothing preventing him from working," she concluded. "I've regrown the damaged vibranium-cellular matrix. I wish I had any memory or records from when he first came in, but since the altered timeline makes that impossible, I've been working off scans made by you and Dr. Cho. If I could remember anything from my initial evaluation and the operation to remove the Mind Stone, I might understand why regrowing the connections and supplying energy to his body isn't enough."

"It's okay," Tony said. "I would like Dr. Banner to take a look at him. He helped program him in the first place, and fresh eyes couldn't hurt."

"If that's okay with you," Bruce said to Shuri.

"Of course."

She went to a nearby control panel and, with a touch on a screen, brought some kind of elaborate scanner down from the ceiling and adjusted it directly over Vision's body.

"The technology is pretty intuitive, but the results come up in Wakandan, so I'll need to translate for you. Let me show you how it works."

As she gave him a quick demo, Tony looked down at Vision's expressionless face. He'd seen it first when they stopped in Wakanda to bring Okoye home after defeating Thanos. He'd hoped—expected, really—that he'd find Vision alive in the new timeline. But after they passed the moment of the Snap, when the new timeline fully resolved, they'd found Vision's body in the Wakanda woods. Tony had tried not to get his hopes up when he'd asked Shuri to try to repair him.

He reached out hesitantly and placed his hand on Vision's gray forehead. Should he consider him dead, or on the android version of life support? At what point should he pull the plug, give up hope, and let himself really mourn for this remarkable being he'd come to regard almost as a son?

Maybe Bruce would think of something the rest of them had missed. But probably not. Once again, he tried not to get his hopes up.

He stepped away from the body and realized Bruce and Shuri were watching him, waiting for him to have his moment before beginning the scans.

"Sorry," he said.

"No, it's okay. I get it," Bruce said. "I mean, I didn't know him as long or as well as you, but...we brought him to life. It doesn't feel right to outlive him. And you watched him grow, watched him learn, watched him evolve. You programmed JARVIS in the first place. He was your baby."

"He was my friend," Tony added.

Shuri and Bruce began the scans. By altering the energy waves coursing through him, they could get Vision's body to levitate, phase, and move. It was eerie to watch.

"I see what you mean," Bruce said after a while. "Everything seems to be in working order, it's just not working."

...

... ... ...

...

It was quiet on the Quinjet, at least after Nat had finished her blow-by-blow account of her training with Okoye and Nakia. She was obviously in awe of Nakia's unarmed combat techniques, but still insisted she'd won.

Nat was taking a turn at the controls. Bruce was staring out the window, deep in thought.

Tony got a cup of coffee and sat down next to him. "What's on your mind?"

"The mind's connection to the body."

Tony raised his eyebrow. "What about it?"

"The brain and the body shouldn't be regarded as two separate things; they're always talking to each other, always influencing each other. What we eat, our hormones, inflamation, physical movement, even our physical surroundings has a huge effect on our emotions, our psychology. You know babies can die if they go a long time without physical touch?"

"No I didn't. Do you think that has something to do with Vision's condition?"

Bruce glanced toward Nat. He lowered his voice. "Imagine two minds inhabiting one body, two consciousnesses, one form for them to use to interact with the world."

"Sounds far-fetched," Tony joked. "But go on."

"They're never going to be completely separate entities, because their shared body is affecting both of them in the same ways. They're probably gonna crave the same food, pick up on the same chemical signals."

"Find themselves attracted to the same kind of woman?"

"Yeah. Things like that."

"If you want to talk about your and the Hulk's sex life, I'm here for you."

"No. It just got me thinking."

"About what?" Tony pressed.

"When we fought Thanos after the Snap, he used the Gauntlet three times before we got it away from him, and three people who'd been dusted reappeared: Wanda Maximoff, Peter Quill, and Dr. Strange. Why those three? Out of all the people who vanished in the Snap, why did those three come back, and in that order?"

"I figure it was part of Dr. Strange's master plan. Wanda was powerful enough to take care of Thanos, Quill had the connections on Xandar that let us get the Power Stone, Strange could control the Time Stone. Those were the three people we needed to win."

"So you think Dr. Strange channeled his power through the Gauntlet to bring them back?"

"Something like that."

"Did Strange actually say that? Did he say it was him who brought them back?"

"No, but who else could it have been?" Tony asked.

"I don't know, maybe this is crazy, but can you think of someone who would bring Wanda back first, then bring back Quill—someone who also lost his significant other to Thanos—then Strange, the person who could potentially undo what Thanos had done? Can you think of someone who would choose to bring them back in that order?"

Tony frowned. When they'd found Wanda, she'd been beyond distraught; she'd been broken. She would have been useless in their fight, and then Quill had talked to her, probably about their shared sense of loss, and she'd joined them to track down Thanos. Judging by the state she'd been in, Wanda hadn't orchestrated their reappearance. Even though Quill called himself Star Lord, he didn't seem to have that kind of power. If it wasn't Strange, then who?

Or what?

Two minds, one body...

"You're thinking the Mind Stone? The Mind Stone was sabotaging Thanos from within the Gauntlet? Brought Wanda back?"

"It's just a thought. But we know the Mind Stone contained it's own intelligence. You're the one who showed it to me. We gave that intelligence a physical body, maybe for the first time in its existence, living on this planet. Even if that wasn't the intelligence directing Vision's actions, it was seeing the world through Vision's eyes, seeing Wanda through Vision's eyes. If that sentience persisted when the Mind Stone was stolen from Vision and put in the Gauntlet, I can't imagine it was happy about it. And its priority might easily have been saving Wanda."

It was possible, Tony had to agree. Not the most likely explanation, maybe, but far from unlikely. Even if that wasn't how it happened, the Mind Stone might be the missing piece in bringing Vision back. And if there was even a possibility it was true, they owed it to the Mind Stone to try to restore it to it's body.

"Change of plan," Tony called to Nat. "Let's drop by New York City before we go back to the compound." To Bruce he added, "We're off to see the wizard."


	11. The Wizard

**Author's note** : I was working on this chapter the moment I heard the news of Stan Lee's death. From _The X-Men_ being my favorite cartoon as a child (my brothers and I would spend hours making up and drawing pictures of our own superheroes and villains) to the _Avengers_ movies I've binged in the past year to my recent reading of _The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl_ (because I'm also a huge _Dinosaur Comics_ fan), Stan Lee has enriched my life for so long in so many ways, I can't let this moment pass without offering my gratitude to him.

Chapter 11: The Wizard

Who saw the petals  
drop from the rose?  
I, said the spider,  
But nobody knows.

Who saw the sunset  
flash on the bird?  
I, said the fish,  
But nobody heard.

Who saw the fog  
come over the sea?  
I, said the sea pigeon,  
Only me.

Who saw the first  
Green light of the sun?  
I, said the night owl,  
The only one.

Who saw the moss  
Creep over the stone?  
I, said the grey fox,  
All alone.

~Margaret Wise Brown, "The Secret Song"

Tony rang the bell at 177A Bleecker Street in New York City.

Bruce held back, looking up at the building. "They've really fixed this place up since I...fell through the roof."

"Thanks to time travel, that never actually happened," Tony reminded him.

The door opened, and Dr. Strange looked out at them. "Yeah?"

"Got a minute, Strange?"

"For you, Stark? Sixteen seconds."

"Okay. We need the Mind Stone."

He stared at him.

"Maybe we should chat somewhere more private?" Tony suggested.

"No shit, Sherlock. Get in here before someone recognizes you."

Inside the Sanctum Sanctorum, Tony and Bruce inexplicable found themselves seated on a sofa, facing the wizard across a table.

"Tea?" Strange asked, already filling cups from an ornate porcelain teapot.

"I don't know," Bruce said. "Does it have any kind of magical substance infused in it?"

"Yeah. Caffeine."

Bruce picked up the cup and took a sip.

Strange stirred some sugar in his. "So, you want the Mind Stone. Even after you agreed five months ago that it would be safest with me?"

"It's not so much that I agreed as that I couldn't think of a better option," Tony said. "I was nervous enough about leaving the Power Stone back on Xandar and sending the Reality Stone with Quill. Letting you hide the others just seemed like the least bad of our terrible options at the time."

"But why do you want it _now_?"

Tony glanced at Bruce.

"Before we answer that," he said, "I need to know something: in the four million futures you saw, you must have seen that you could be brought back by the Gauntlet."

"You, Peter Quill, and Wanda Maximoff," Bruce added. "What we're wondering is, did you do that? Were you able to manipulate the Gauntlet from beyond?"

Strange hesitated a long moment before saying, "No."

Tony and Bruce glanced at each other, then Tony asked, "Then who did?"

"I'm honestly not sure. I foresaw what would happen, not how or why it would happen."

"So you trusted the fate of the universe to something you didn't understand?" Tony asked.

"I'm a surgeon; I like to know why something works when I can, but the reasons aren't as important as the results. If a procedure saves a patient's life, you don't cut them open again to figure out why it worked. I have a few ideas what might have caused it."

"Could it have been the Mind Stone itself?" Bruce asked.

Dr. Strange looked momentarily startled, but Bruce couldn't tell whether that was because that possibility hadn't occurred to him or if he was just surprised anyone else had thought of it.

"We know the Mind Stone possesses a kind of artificial intelligence," Bruce explained.

"There's nothing _artificial_ about it. Not only is it natural, you might even call it the nature of intelligence."

"The nature of intelligence?" Tony asked.

Strange looked at them both for a moment, sipped his tea, and began his explanation. "There are three people in the universe who remember what was beyond the Snap, and frankly I doubt the other two had the capacity to understand what they saw. Humans under normal conditions can only perceive a few directions: front, back, left, right, up, down, and forward and backward in time. But there are directions we can't perceive, that our brains aren't even equipped to conceptualize."

"Are you talking about multiverse theory?" Bruce asked.

"Yes and no. While the multiverse exists, and I have seen a number of universes beyond this one, it is the nature of _this_ universe that is pertinent to our discussion. The Infinity Stones are not what you think they are. At least they're not what you see them as _._ "

"Then what are they?" asked Tony, challengingly.

"This universe is made up of layers of forces: the three dimensions of space, the movement of time, energy, the persistence of physical properties, consciousness, and a kind of underlying matrix of self we for the lack of a better word might call 'soul'."

"The Infinity Stones. Yeah, you and Wong explained it to us before."

"My own understanding of the Stones has...expanded since then. What we're calling 'stones' are really singularities. Each layer of the universe exists in all places at all times, except for one point that emerged from the Big Bang, one single point where each layer exists in a pure form, unmixed with the others. Over the course of the universe, interested parties have made devices that allow those points to be accessed and manipulated, changing the physical universe, but only for the level of whatever singularity that device was harnessing. The Tesseract harnessed the Space Stone, Loki's Scepter harnessed the Mind Stone. This." He lifted the Eye of Agamotto, "the Time Stone. The Gauntlet allowed them all to be harnessed at once. With the Snap, everyone who disappeared ceased to exist on all levels but one. We were shifted to single level of the universe, the one we call Soul, the one thing Thanos knew he couldn't destroy."

"That's...profound, but it doesn't really answer our question," Bruce noted.

"The answer is, I don't know. As far as I know, the Mind Stone doesn't have its own intelligence, it _is_ intelligence. But if any of the Stones could be sentient, it would be that one."

"We believe it is," Tony said. "If we're right, it brought you back from the Snap and saved us all, and now we need it to save our friend."

"Vision?" Strange asked.

"Vision," Bruce confirmed. "We've repaired his body, but it looks like we might need the Mind Stone to, uh, restore his mind."

Strange worked his jaw thoughtfully. "That's a noble goal. But I'm not sure it's worth the risk to put an Infinity Stone out in the open again."

Tony stared at him. "'Worth the risk'? You know, Doctor, there's something that's been bugging me. When you saw four million possible outcomes for our fight with Thanos, did you really see just one where we won? Really? One out of four million?"

Strange looked back at him steadily, perhaps a bit defensively. "One."

"Seriously."

Strange broke eye contact. "One where we were able both to stop Thanos and save the millions he'd already killed. The attack on Xandar, the massacre of the Asgardians, the battle in Wakanda. I saw one way to save those lives. To undo those deaths."

"But we could have just killed Thanos?" Tony's question came very, very close to sounding like a statement.

It took Strange several long seconds to answer. "Yes."

Tony was on his feet in an instant, fists hitting the table hard enough to spill tea and rattle the teapot. "You sacrificed my friend!"

"It was one life against millions!"

"Tony..." Bruce put his hand on his arm, warningly. This turn of the conversation was not good for his heart rate.

Tony slowly sank back down into his chair.

Bruce looked to Strange. "Give us the Mind Stone. Let us try to bring Vision back."

"Even if I did, and even if it worked, there's no guarantee it would be the same Vision you knew. Besides, what protection would he have if someone else attacks him for the Mind Stone?"

"Besides super strength, the ability to fly, phase through solid objects, and shoot beams of energy from his head?" Tony asked incredulously.

"Wanda Maximoff," Bruce stated.

Strange frowned. "What about her?"

"She defeated Thanos basically singlehandedly. She's his protection."

"As I'm sure you're aware, she's currently busy travelling the world spreading mayhem and suffering."

Tony and Bruce exchanged another glance, then Tony looked back at Strange. "You don't know."

"Know what?"

Bruce chimed in. "It sounds like you've been keeping a close eye on Wanda's exploits. You planning to stop her?"

"Not currently. I'm not too broken up by her going around giving waking nightmares to bad people, especially considering the things I know she's capable of, but I am watching the situation closely. If it becomes necessary to stop her, I might be the only one who can."

"We can stop her," Tony said. "Wanda and Vision were lovers. All of this mayhem she's causing, it's because of what happened to him. It's her way of dealing with her loss. We bring Vision back, she comes right back to the fold."

"Are you sure about that? Grief can change a person."

Tony shrugged. "She and Vision were kind of in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. We reunite them, she's not going to have the time or energy to continue her crusade."

"How do you know he wouldn't leave the Avengers and join her?"

"Because I know Vision. He's pure innocence and compassion. He would never hurt anyone in any way if he can avoid it."

"Dying can change a person," Strange said.

"Now it sounds like you're just looking for excuses," Tony replied.

Strange stared at him for a minute. "Promise me something, Stark: If it doesn't work, if you're not able to restore Vision, you'll return the Mind Stone to me."

"You have my word."

Strange stretched out his palm and mumbled something, and in a flash of light the Mind Stone appeared floating above his hand. He took a small wooden box from a drawer and placed it inside.

"Be very careful how you handle it. Any one of the Infinity Stones has enough power to destroy a planet. It can change the nature of anything it comes in contact with, destabilize the fabric of the universe, transform innocent objects into weapons of unfathomable capabilities."

"No shit, Sherlock. I saw what the Mind Stone could do when it was in Loki's sceptre in New York, and I was on the receiving end of one of those innocent objects in a HYDRA base in Sokovia."

...

... ... ...

...

Shuri carefully manipulated the holographic representations of synthetic neurons in front of her.

"You really don't have to look over my shoulder," she said. "This is going to take hours."

"Yeah, you know, we're the ones who did this the first time," Tony said.

"I think Dr. Cho and Ultron would dispute that," Shuri teased. "They built the hardware; you just installed the software."

After a few minutes of watching, Bruce turned away from the operating table and paced nervously.

Tony intercepted him. "You having second thoughts?"

"I'm just questioning the wisdom of keeping this from the rest of the team."

"You mean keeping this from Widow?"

He sighed. "I feel like she just looks at me and knows I'm hiding something."

"Dating a superspy must be exhausting," Tony noted.

"Yeah. But it's better than the alternative."

"What's the alternative?"

" _Not_ dating Nat."

Tony chuckled. "Good point. I just didn't want to get everyone's hopes up if this doesn't work."

"If you two could keep it down, I am trying to concentrate," Shuri said.

Bruce looked at her dubiously. "With that music?"

"What? This music helps me concentrate."

Bruce shook his head. Shuri was listening to...he wasn't even sure it could be called rock. He didn't know what kids these days called it.

"If you don't like it, you don't need to wait in here. I'll call you when I'm done."

Tony shrugged. "I can take a hint."

A few minutes later. Bruce and Tony found themselves outside the palace enjoying the view.

"It's so hard to believe this is the same place where I fought Thanos," Bruce said. "This whole place was just...shredded by the battle. There were so many bodies. It looks so peaceful now."

Tony nodded. "We managed to undo almost all the damage Thanos did. Vision was his only lasting victory, his consolation prize. If this works, we get Vision back, then we can really say we beat Thanos."

"I don't know. Half the universe woke up from a collective nightmare. Most planets will never have any idea what caused it. That's gotta screw up a lot of people, a lot of civilizations, a lot of belief systems. Thanos did that, and that's something we'll never be able to take away from him."

"Well, no victory is ever a total victory," Tony said.

They returned to the palace for lunch, then wandered the streets of the city for a while. Some people recognized them and asked for autographs or thanked them for saving the world.

As they rounded a corner at a marketplace, Tony froze.

Bruce glanced at him in confusion before looking where he was staring and recognizing Bucky Barnes.

Bucky was apparently out shopping. He was wearing a teeshirt, making no attempt to hide the his metal arm. When he turned and caught sight of them, he tensed.

For a moment, Bruce was torn. He knew why Tony didn't like the former Winter Soldier—he'd heard the story from Steve. And he knew the Winter Soldier once shot and almost killed Nat: he'd seen the scar. But Nat didn't hold it against him. She'd brushed it off as "nothing personal." And what Bruce thought of most when he saw the man was fighting side by side against Thanos's forces, which made Bucky a comrade in arms.

And so he stepped forward. "Hey, Bucky. How are you doing?"

"Well as can be expected. Good to see you again, Dr. Banner. I didn't know you were back in the country."

"Just dropping by for a couple of days."

"Okoye mentioned you were in town a few days ago," Bucky said. "Apparently, she and Romanoff had a good fight." Bucky glanced seemingly against his will toward Tony, and the smalltalk dried up. They had seen each other since Thanos, but only ever in group settings. They hadn't been in close proximity, put in a position where they'd be expected to interact.

Tony offerred him a nod. "Barnes."

"Stark," he replied.

"We should be getting back," Bruce said.

"Wait," Bucky said. "I just want to say, I know I'm the last guy you want to hear this from, but thank you for saving the universe." He turned and walked away without waiting for a response.

Tony stood silently.

Bruce turned to him. "That went okay."

"I wish he hadn't said anything," Tony said. "He is literally the last person I wanted to hear that from."

"We've all done terrible things, Tony. And most of us weren't brainwashed when we did them."

"Shut up, Banner."

A few minutes later, they got a call from Shuri. "I've finished connecting the neural networks. I'll wait for you to get back here before powering Vision up."


	12. Rebirth

Chapter 12: Rebirth

He is alive, this morning—  
He is alive—and awake—  
Birds are resuming for Him—  
Blossoms—dress for His Sake.  
Bees—to their loaves of Honey  
Add an Amber Crumb  
Him—to regale—Me—Only—  
Motion, and am dumb.

~Emily Dickinson

It wasn't that he woke up; he hadn't been asleep. He had been passively gathering inputs, monitoring stimuli, but had no capacity or will to do anything with it.

He didn't wake up; he resolved.

"That should do it."

"I think it worked! His color's coming back."

He saw the three people standing over him, looking down at him.

"Vision..." one of them said, a tone between a question and a wish.

"Are you with us, buddy?" another asked.

He understood the words, knew their meanings, but couldn't make sense of their implications.

"What is this?" He could make words of his own, string sounds together in this complex code to convey meaning. Convey meaning to other minds, intelligences outside himself. Those were.

One released a burst of air from his mouth. "Vis! You're awake!"

"What is this, please?"

"What is what?" the third asked.

He sat up slowly. _What is what?_ To find an answer to his question required knowing what his question was. What it meant.

He looked down. He had a form, much like the others. Hands, fingers. This was his body. It felt familiar. He knew its motions, knew its capacities.

What else did he know? The names of many of the objects he laid eyes on. The time of day. His current latitude and longitude. It seemed he had tools in his head to find answers to many things.

Existence. What is this existence?

Questions and answers chased each other through his mind. He rejected several before finding one that seemed simple and basic. "Where am I?"

"How much do you remember?" asked one of his interlocutors.

He stared at him. Remember. That required a previous experience, a previous state.

Something was very wrong.

"Nothing,"

...

... ... ...

...

Shuri, Bruce, and Tony spent a few more hours examining Vision, examining his neural network and programming trying to discover the cause of his amnesia, hoping there was a way to cure it.

"I don't know what more we can do," Shuri said in a whispered consultation in a corner of her lab. "If he were just human or just computer it would be simpler, but I can't tell where or how he stores memories. If he stores memories in his synthetic neurons, it's possible his memories will gradually return as his brain renews its connections. If his memories were stored in his software, they were likely completely erased. If they were stored in the Mind Stone, I have no clue what happened or will happen with them."

Bruce nodded, then looked questioningly at Tony. "What now? This is a pretty serious complication."

"Well, there's a lot we can bring him up to speed on. Carefully. But he's still Vision. And he's alive, which means it worked. Let's take him home."

"We can't just spring this on everyone," Bruce said. "I mean, we didn't even tell them we were gonna try to bring him back."

"Yeah. Call Nat, explain the situation, and let her break it to the rest of the team."

"Are you sure it's even a good idea to bring him back right now? I mean," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "you know how bad this could go, right? Yeah, this consciousness gave us Vision, but it's also the same consciousness that produced Ultron. What way is he gonna go this time?"

"I've still got some of JARVIS's backup memory files back in New York. I'll upload them to Vision, that will at least give him back some of his memories."

"I hope it works," Bruce said. "How is Wanda going to react to this?"

"I don't know. I think it's a good idea to keep this from going public for a while."

Shuri nodded at that. "It would be bad if the wrong people knew there was an amnesiac Avenger around. Very few people even know we've been keeping Vision here, only my brother's trusted circle. I'll see to it rumors don't spread from our end."

Tony nodded. "Thanks."

"We can even keep him here, if you're concerned about him. I can continue running tests. Maybe I'll find something else I could try to fix his memory."

"We couldn't ask you to do that," Bruce said. "If the situation goes south, I'm not sure even the Black Panther could handle it."

"With due respect, Dr. Banner, my patient is made of vibranium, and I know better than anyone how to handle vibranium."

Tony looked back over his shoulder at Vision, sitting on the metal table, watching them from across the room with an expression brimming with both curiosity and trust.

"Shuri, nothing against you, but I'm taking Vision home."

...

... ... ...

...

Nat was directing a training session with Sam and Rhodey when her phone rang.

"Keep it up, boys. I'll be right back."

She walked into the quiet hallway before taking the call. "Hey, Bruce."

"Hi Natasha."

He was on the Quinjet, she saw. The look on his face was contrite, bordering on guilty, like a puppy that knows it just chewed up your favorite pair of shoes.

She was immediately suspicious. "What did you do?"

He took a deep breath. "I don't know yet."

"Does it have something to do with that visit to Dr. Strange that Stark didn't want me in on?"

"Yeah," he admitted wearily. "So, here's the thing... We had this idea that if we had the Mind Stone, if we put it back in Vision's head, we might be able to bring him back to life."

"So that's why you went to see Strange. Did he hand it over?"

"Yeah." He wouldn't meet her eyes.

"So, let me get this straight, you and Stark tried to pull a Frankenstein on Vision, and you didn't even tell me? Vision was my _friend_ , Bruce."

"I know. That's why we didn't want to tell anyone. We didn't want to get anyone's hopes up."

"Well that was stupid." She paused as her spy-brain highlighted a detail in his last sentence. If they didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, why would he tell her now? If it hadn't worked, they wouldn't have to tell anyone they'd even tried. So either it worked, or it went so disasterously wrong that they needed help. "What happened?"

It took a few seconds for Bruce to work up an answer. "It's kind of a good news, bad news thing. He's awake. But he doesn't remember anything."

"What do you mean he doesn't remember anything?"

"I mean, as far as we can tell, he's a blank slate. He didn't even remember his own name."

Nat was overcome with a war of emotions. Vision was alive! But close on that thought was the implications of his amnesia. Vision was immensely powerful, and if he'd lost his tranquil, conscientious personality, he could become a force of devastation. An even more frightening thought was how Wanda might handle the news.

"Is he with you?" she asked.

"Yeah. We're bringing him back to the compound."

"How is he? How does he seem?"

"Well, he's handling the situation way better than I would. He seems okay. Tony's talking to him, explaining who he is, how he happened."

"We have to be careful how we handle this," Nat said.

"I know. I've got a feeling that if a certain person thought we tried to resurrect Vision and we botched it..."

"Yeah. She's not exactly the most forgiving person on the planet."

Bruce nodded. "We're gonna keep this under wraps until we figure some things out"

"That's a good idea."

"We'll be there in a couple of hours. Could you tell the others what to expect?" he asked.

"I'll try, but I don't think any of us can possibly know what to exect from this."


	13. Fugue State

Chapter 13: Fugue State

When it blows from the east,  
waft your fragrance of your blossoms  
on the wind,  
which will carry it to me,  
And do not forget this in spring  
even if you have a master no longer.

~Sugawara no Michizane, Shuishu 1006

Trans. Ivan Morris, from _The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon_

This was his room, he was told.

He'd overheard Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner use the word _overwhelm_ a lot on the plane. They had reminded each other repeatedly not to overwhelm him.

As he looked around the room he was told had been his, alone for the first time he could remember, _overwhelmed_ was exactly how he felt.

The room was full of books, trinkets, paintings, photographs. He saw himself in several of the photographs, next to Tony and the people who had greeted him with enthusiasm when he'd arrived at the Avengers Compound. There were also photos with people he didn't know. None with Dr. Banner, he noted.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," he said, wondering even as he did how he knew that was the appropriate response. Clearly he retained a great deal of memory on a subconscious level, procedural memory.

The door opened. It was the woman named Natasha Romanoff. She was one of the Avengers, he recalled from Mr. Stark's explanation, a weapons and unarmed combat expert codenamed Black Widow.

"Miss Romanoff."

"Sorry to interrupt. I imagine this is all a little overwhelming."

"Yes," he replied.

She gestured around the room. "Is anything coming back to you?"

"No. I feel as if it should, but nothing here seems familiar."

She took a framed photograph from a shelf. It was of her, Vision, Iron Man, Falcon, the Scarlet Witch, War Machine, and Captain America. They were all in uniform, standing in front of the compound.

"Does looking at this picture make you feel anything?"

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel. He shook his head.

She found another photo. It showed the same group in a less formal setting. They were at a social gathering, out of uniform. In the photo, Vision was wearing black slacks and a sweater.

"This one?"

He took the photo from her, staring at it. "May I ask you something, Miss Romanoff?"

"Of course."

"I'm not...like you, am I?"

"In what way?"

"I'm different," he said. "I haven't seen anyone else float, for instance. Everyone I've seen looks different from each other, but I look more different."

"You haven't seen the Hulk."

"Is he like me?"

She raised an eyebrow, and shook her head. "No, not like you. The truth is, you're unique. You're a synthetic man. You were grown from artificial tissue and vibranium. You're stronger than the rest of us, smarter than the rest of us. You can fly, you can move through solid walls. The rest of us can't do things like that. Stark, Sam, and Rhodey can fly, but only with their suits. Wanda can fly, but not like you."

"Wanda?"

She glanced toward him quickly. "Do you remember her?"

"Wanda Maximoff, codenamed Scarlet Witch. She was one of the Avengers. Mr. Stark told me about her. I have not met her yet."

"She's not here. She's...away."

"Dr. Banner isn't in these photographs. Why is that?"

"I'm guessing Tony didn't get to that part."

"I believe he was being careful about how much he told me in an attempt to keep me from becoming 'overwhelmed'."

"Bruce—Dr. Banner—was one of the Avengers when the team first formed, but he left for a while, around the time you joined us. And he came back when Thanos..." She trailed off.

"Mr. Stark told me about Thanos's attack. Thanos wanted the Mind Stone that powers me. When he took it, it destroyed me. Killed me. His actions are the reason I have lost my memory." He looked around the room, at the objects that were apparently his. He supposed he should feel bereaved, or offended, as if his life had been stolen away from him. But he didn't feel that way. It didn't feel as if it had been his life.

"I'm sorry. This must be so weird. I've never woken up with no memories, but I know what it's like to feel like your whole foundation has been ripped out from under you. It sucks."

"That is not how it feels."

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"It's as if this room belonged to a stranger. The name people have been calling me belonged to someone else. When you look at me, you see someone else, like an identical twin I've never met."

"I'm sorry." She picked up and set down a few more of the framed photos on his desk. "Vision was our friend. We miss him, and I think when Tony and Bruce told us they'd brought you back to life, we were all hoping your memory would come back, that Vision would somehow come back to us. It's an unfair expectation to burden you with. We have a number of empty rooms in the building. You may be more comfortable staying in one of those. In fact, I should give you a grand tour of the compound."

"I would appreciate that, but I think for right now I would like to look around this room. I feel as if I'm intruding, but I should get to know the person I'm replacing."

She nodded. "He had a lot going for him. He had friends, he had a place here. As an Avenger, he saved lives. He was a hero. I understand if you don't want to take up his mantle, or if you need time, but we're here for you. If you need anything, just ask."

She waited for a moment, waiting for him to respond, then headed for the door.

...

... ... ...

...

Nat walked down to the lounge, where she found Bruce, Tony, Steve, Sam, and Rhodey. They fell silent and looked at her.

"Did he talk to you?" Sam asked.

"Yeah."

As seconds dragged by and her lack of elaboration indicated bad news, their faces fell.

"So what do you think?" Tony asked.

She shrugged and shook her head. " _Tabula rasa._ He doesn't remember us at all. He doesn't feel like the same person. I'm not sure if it's crossed his mind yet that he doesn't need to stay, but it will."

"We can't just let him leave," Rhodey said. "He's an Avenger; even without his memory, he's too great an asset to just let him walk away."

"Besides, someone as powerful as he is, out on his own, it's too risky," Tony added.

"It's not like we could stop him if he wants to go," Steve pointed out.

They all contemplated that for a moment.

"But we could help him," Sam said. "If he wants to leave, go spend some time figuring out who he is now, we could help him get set up somewhere, help him figure out how to phase into his human disguise again. That's what we should do if he decides that's what he wants."

"And how do we, you know, break the news?" Bruce asked.

"We don't yet," Nat said. "Vision—or whoever he is now—deserves some time to figure out what he wants to do. We owe him that time." And she didn't want even a breath of this getting to Wanda until she could explain the situation in person.

"What should we call him now?" Steve wondered. "If he's not the Vision we knew, should we even call him that?"

"Maybe we should ask him," Bruce suggested.

"'Vision' is fine," the topic of conversation himself said from a corner of the room.

They all turned toward him. "How long have you been there?" Tony asked.

"Twenty-four seconds." He floated to them. "I understand this is an odd and confusing circumstance for you as well, and I do not wish to make it any more so. 'Vision' is the name you have associated with me, and as long as it doesn't cause you further grief, I see no reason to reject it." He looked at Nat. "I have done some thinking, as I looked at the photograph of the Avengers and saw my own face among them. If I have powers, it seems to me I have a responsibility to use them for good. Furthermore, in that image I see myself as part of a team, as belonging. I have no memory of what that feels like, but I do know that is what I want."

Tony stood, staring at him. "So you're staying?"

"If I am welcome."

...

... ... ...

...

In the days after arriving at the compound, he tried to be unobtrusive as he observed the others. He made guesses about the Avengers' personalities. Tony Stark was outwardly confident, but he seemed to wear it like armor. Inside he was frightened of the mistakes he might make, but even more frightened of letting his his fear limit him. Natasha Romanoff was geniunely confident, decisive, secure in her knowledge of her and her teammates' competence. Bruce Banner was uncertain, cautious, a scientific genius who didn't readily recognize he was anything extraordinary. Judging by their interactions, Banner and Romanoff appeared to be lovers. Steve Rogers was friendly and polite, but at the same time seemed wary around him, uncertain of how to interact. Sam Wilson was more direct, offering to help him in any way he could, but he also frequently brought up stories of Vision's past and asked questions that made it clear he held out hope his memory would return. James Rhodes seemed in contrast to regard him as a new person, a complete stranger to be slowly trained and integrated into the team.

He spent a great deal of time in the room that had belonged to him before. He looked through each item like an artifact, trying to reconstruct his previous life, trying to get into the mind of the person who had lived there. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't think of any of it as belonging to _him._ The books on the shelves were unfamiliar, he couldn't imagine his own hand actually making the paintings he found. The letters and cards from fans and people the Vision had saved felt like they were addressed to someone else, a now-dead hero.

Carefully tucked behind a painting of a plum tree, he found a lock of brown hair tied with a single red ribbon. He wondered how it had gotten there, and who the hair belonged to. Had he hidden it there on purpose? It seemed such an odd item for his past self to have.

All the Avengers were in the lounge one afternoon, relaxing and chatting after training, when Natasha received a text that prompted her to turn on the news.

"What is it?" Steve asked curiously.

Nat gestured him to be quiet.

 _"...and security guards,"_ the reporter said. " _Ayers and his family and staff have been hospitalized. Authorities have yet to identify the person or persons responsible for these attacks."_ The screen switched from an image of the reporter to video of a middle-aged man being carried into an ambulance in front of a sprawling mansion. Then it cut to an image of a preteen boy sobbing, a young woman staring into nothingness, arms wrapped around herself. _"Kent Ayers received criticism and threats in recent months for allegedly covering up dozens of deaths resulting from the pesticide Loaart, developed by his company in 2013. Ayers retired amid the controversy last year,. Investigators are still trying to determine how the attackers got into Ayers' home. Back to you, Jim."_

A studio anchor gave a quick wrap-up of the story. " _This latest attack marks the seventh known psychic attack in three months. So far, no one has come forward to claim responsibility. When reached for comment, a spokesperson for the Avengers stated they are taking this threat seriously and are working with international investigators to stop the perpetrators."_

"Damn," Sam said. "There were kids in the house?"

"She's devolving," Bruce said. "Getting reckless."

Vision looked at him curiously. "I don't understand. What are these attacks?"

"Vigilante justice," Steve said. "Waking nightmares that can cause psychological breakdowns."

"That's horrible," Vision said. "Someone is attacking their very minds. Have the Avengers tried to stop them?"

"We're working on it," Sam said. "But it's complicated."

"How so? Is this not the kind of threat the Avengers are meant to protect the world against?"

"The problem is, the person behind it _is_ an Avenger," Natasha said. "She's one of us. Wanda. Excuse me." She made a phone call as she walked out of the room.

"If a former Avenger is behind these attacks, isn't it our responsibility to stop her?" Vision asked.

Steve answered. "We will, but... For one thing, we don't know how to find her, and we never know where she'll strike next. For another thing...this isn't really her. Thanos's attack hurt her bad. She kind of...isn't herself right now. Nat has a plan to bring her back without anyone getting hurt."

He was still confused. He trusted Natasha—at least, he thought he did—but it didn't make sense that the Avengers would neglect to stop one of their own who had gone rogue. It went against everything he'd learned about the Avengers so far. Could this be an error in judgment, a sentimental attachment to a former teammate blinding them to the horror of her actions?

Vision looked up just in time to catch a strange nonverbal exchange pass between Sam and Steve. Sam's expression seemed to be asking a question, gesturing in Vision's direction. Steve, frowning, shook his head slightly.

The exchange left a creeping suspicion in Vision's mind that there was something they were keeping from him.

But he didn't say anything about it. Perhaps he'd imagined it.

...

... ... ...

...

Tony couldn't believe what he was hearing over the phone.

"No one was even supposed to _know_ about that shipment. How did the theives know exactly what boxes to take?"

 _"We don't know. The security cameras were taken out by the electrical surge. When the surviving security guards regain consciousness, they might be able to provide some information on the theives, but there's no telling when that will be."_

Tony rubbed his forehead as he exited the car and walked toward the front entrance of Stark Tower. "Okay, we've still got the prototypes and the design specs under wraps. It would take even the best scientists months to reverse-engineer those batteries. We've got time to find these goons before this turns into a complete disaster. I want the train locked down. No one goes near it but our guys. Say it was carrying hazardous material or something."

 _"I'll think of something that will draw less attention and lawsuits,"_ Pepper said. _"How many batteries were in that shipment?"_

"Fifty. Hey, I gotta go. Looks like I'm about to have a press problem." He hung up just as a young woman being followed by a camera stuck a microphone in his face.

"Mr. Stark, can we get a statement on this latest attack?"

He looked longingly at the front entrance of his building, only a few frustrating paces away.

"I don't answer questions. We have people for that." He tried to push past her before turning back. "How the hell did you find out about the attack?"

"It's been reported by California state troopers..."

"California? Then this isn't about... What attack are you talking about?"

"The latest psychic terrorist attack. Kent Ayers was rushed to the hospital in critical condition, possibly having suffered cardiac arrest due to the attack. Do the Avengers have any idea who's behind these attacks?"

He was torn between relief that the media didn't know about the robbery and concern over this latest of Wanda's escapades. He'd met Kent Ayers a few times; a nice guy if you didn't take into account his willingness to let people die to make himself and his company richer, which was something Tony had also been guilty of.

It took him a moment to process the reporter's question. "I can assure you the Avengers are all over it."

"What steps are the Avengers taking to keep the public safe from this threat?"

"A lot of steps. I'm busy."

She physically moved to block his escape route. "You're too busy to take even a minute to reassure the public the Avengers are concerned about their safety?"

"Look, these psychic attacks are targeting people who commit crimes and get away with it. You don't want to be targeted by a nightmare bomb, don't commit crimes."

"Are you going on record blaming the _victims_ for these attacks?" she asked.

"No, of course not. Using psychic powers to attack anyone is wrong, and it's a direct violation of the Sokovia Accords, and the Avengers will find and stop the perpatrator."

"Can you tell us one single solid step you're taking to stop these atracks?"

He did not want to deal with this right now. He also didn't want a video of him physically pushing past a young reporter while refusing to respond to questions he should indeed _have_ answers to showing up on national news.

So, not for the first time in his life, he answered a reporter impulsively and imprudently. "We just added a new member to the team. Actually, we got an old one back."

"Who?"

"Vision. He just rejoined the team, and I have no doubt he will be a huge help in finding and stopping the person responsible for these attacks."

He hoped he'd startled the reported enough to make a getaway, but she recovered her composure in a second and jogged to intercept him right before he reached the door. "Mr. Stark, Vision was reported dead after the attack by Thanos. Are you telling me that report was false?"

"Well, he's an android who doesn't need to breathe and doesn't have a pulse, so it was kind of hard to tell. We've had a team working on repairing him for several months, and I can now report it worked. Vision has recovered from fighting Thanos: he's alive and well. We'll have an official press briefing in a few days. Until then, that's all you get."

He successfully made it through the door, leaving the reporter with something way juicier than she was expecting.

And leaving himself the problem of how to deal with Nat when she found out he'd messed up her plan. Though in his defense, her plan hadn't included another incident on American soil, one that might result in the death of a notorious millionaire industrialist. They had Vision, and that meant they had Wanda; it was foolish not to play their trump card, no matter what Nat thought.

When he'd learned about the theft of an entire batch of top-secret experimental batteries and the death of a Stark Industries security guard by an unknown party a few minutes ago, he never would have guessed the day would so quickly manage to get even worse.


	14. Consequences

Chapter 14: Consequences

Since we parted, spring's been halved.  
It strikes my eye, and my sad heart breaks:  
Beneath the steps, the falling plum blossoms are like a flurry of snow;  
I brush them off but still they cover me.

Wild geese come but messages don't get through.  
The road is far; it's hard to meet in dreams.  
The grief of separation is just like grass in spring:  
No matter how far you go, it's growing still.

~Li Yu, trans. Hans Frankel, _The Flowering Plum and the Palace Lady_

 _"And what do you want?"_

 _His hand on her arm._

 _"For people to see you, as I do."_

 _His arms around her._

 _"Stay. Stay with me."_

 _His lips on hers, compensating for their metallic hardness with a passionate tenderness._

 _"You could never hurt me."_

 _Dying. Killing him. With her own hand obliterating the best thing in her universe._

 _"I love you."_

Wanda woke up from her troubled sleep, and considered for a moment whether to give in to the despair she always felt upon waking and let herself weep until she ran out of tears.

She fought back the all-consuming grief, and after a minute, she climbed out of her sleeping bag to look for breakfast. Her heart was empty and her stomach was empty, and one of those two pains she could do something about.

This world was where she went to be alone. It was just like Earth in some ways—many of the plants and animals were the flora and fauna she had always known, for example. But humans had apparently never evolved here. Also, there was no moon. The planet's size and orbit around the Sun was the same as Earth's, but its rotation was nearly perpendicular to Earth's. It was like it was rotating north to south instead of east to west. But she wasn't sure if that would be an accurate way to describe it, because what was "east" other than the direction the sun rose? It was maybe better to say east here was north on Earth.

The planet rotated faster than Earth; there was a little over fifteen hours between sunsets the day she'd decided to time it. That made it a convenient place to go if she wanted to hop continents back on Earth. She could be in Russia one morning, come here, wait a few hours, and find herself in South America when she went back to her own Earth. Or she could wait a day or two and end up on any continent she wanted.

This version of Earth was also warmer. It had a lot of fruits and edible wild plants. She found some wild strawberries and lambsquarter and made it into a quick salad. It wasn't delicious or filling, but it was enough. After breakfast, she took a dip in a lake, then she packed up her sleeping bag and backpack of supplies to head back to Earth. She reached out, fingers outstretched. Reached beyond her fingertips.

Her home Earth was always easy to find. She had a bond with it that she didn't feel from any other Earth she'd ever been to. When she reached out like this, it drew her, as if it were reaching back for her.

The threads of her power squeezed through the gaps between the worlds, finding the familiar energy of home, testing for air, testing for ground. It was water instead, ocean several meters below her coordinates.

She drew back.

She tried again about half an hour later. This time she had air and ground. She tested for the energy of human proximity. Finding none, she shifted between the worlds, coming through a few meters above the ground. Over a thick forest, she could see buildings and a body of water in the distance. She slowly levitated herself to the ground, startling a flock of black-and-white geese.

She soon learned she was in the outskirts of Darwin, Australia. She walked a couple of kilometers to the CBD, stole a few dollars to buy lunch, and asked around where she could find a place with computer access. She was directed to the library at the Northern Territory parliament building.

She hadn't decided yet who to choose for her next project. The world was so full of people committing thoughtless acts of cruelty and greed, it really was a matter of narrowing it down.

She was scrolling through the headlines on a world news website when the word "Vision" caught her eye.

The headline was: "Tony Stark Announces Return of Vision to the Avengers."

Her heart began to pound. This had to be a trick, a rumor reported as fact. Or she was dreaming.

She clicked on the article. It included a video of the interview with Stark, which she watched repeatedly.

He was lying, she told herself. He'd made it up to draw her out. The press conference, scheduled for 5 p.m. Eastern Standard Time next Tuesday, had to be a trap.

It said Vision would be present at that press conference.

This couldn't possibly be true. It couldn't be real.

...

... ... ...

...

Vision was nervous. Tony had explained to him that this press conference was necessary to help the public feel safe, and that in the interest of everyone's security, Vision shouldn't mention the memory loss. But he knew Tony and Natasha had been arguing furiously about the wisdom of this public appearance. He'd eavesdropped on their private discussion after Tony told everyone they would put on a press conference. Tony contended Wanda would come back to the Avengers once she found out Vision was there. Natasha had replied, "She'll kill us all."

Vision had been researching Wanda Maximoff. Before joining the Avengers, she'd aided Ultron, the sentient robot who tried to wipe humanity off the face of the Earth. He wasn't sure why they had invited her to join the Avengers after that conflict. Although she had turned against Ultron and aided in his defeat, and perhaps the Avengers felt sorry for her after her brother died in that conflict, even then she seemed dangerous and untrustworthy.

She had been blamed for several deaths in an explosion in Lagos. After reviewing the details of that incident, Vision couldn't see how attributing those deaths to her was justified, as many more people would have died if she had not contained the explosion and levitated it away from the crowded street.

She had sided with Steve in the disagreement over the Sokovia Accords and the status of James Barnes which had split the Avengers apart. Vision couldn't fully fault her for that, as both sides in the conflict had valid points, but he had learned something disturbing: he himself had been guarding Wanda Maximoff at the compound. She had used her power to incapacitate him in order to escape. It seemed he was particularly vulnerable to her. That fact frightened him, especially given her apparent instability and violent temperament.

And so he was nervous about this press briefing he wasn't supposed to know was a ploy to capture the Scarlet Witch.

Tony had only allowed ten reporters. They sat in the front row, their camera crews set up in the side aisles.

Tony, Bruce, and Vision sat on the stage. The other Avengers were in the wings and the hallway outside, providing increased security.

"Let's get started," Tony said. "Thank you for coming, everyone. As you can see, Vision has rejoined the Avengers. He was seriously injured fighting Thanos. We reported him as dead at the time because, frankly, we thought he was. But I wasn't willing to give up hope. I've often been accused of not knowing when to quit, and it's absolutely true. Our team worked for months repairing the damage Vision sustained, and I am personally so happy to have him back. Questions?"

Each reporter's hand shot up.

"Uh, yeah, you."

The indicated reporter stood. "This question is for Vision. How does it feel being back?"

He was uncomfortable being in the public eye, which he was told was not a new feature of his personality. He'd rehearsed answers for these questions. "I am grateful. I am grateful to be reunited with my friends, and to once again join them in keeping the world safe."

Another reporter called out, "Vision, do you remember the battle with Thanos?"

He hadn't prepared for this question. He knew the altered timeline caused the half of the population Thanos hadn't dusted to have no memory of those events, and he would probably be among them, so he could safely tell the truth. "I do not."

Another reporter stood with hand raised. "Do the Avengers have any plans on how to defeat the terrorist behind the so-called nightmare bombs?"

That phrase had caught on quickly since Tony had used it.

"Yeah," Tony answered. "We know who's behind them, and we do have a plan to stop them. For obvious reasons, we're not going to get into specifics."

"Those 'obvious reasons' being...?"

"Not giving away our plan. Obviously."

Another reporter asked, "What was involved in repairing the damage to Vision?"

"Our team had to regenerate his tissue matrix and manually connect part of his neural network," Tony answered.

"Did that cause anything analogous to brain damage?"

This question seemed to startle Tony. He glanced at him. "Not that we can tell. Our tests haven't shown any deficits in his abilities."

"Dr. Banner, were you part of the team that repaired the Vision?"

Bruce also didn't seem quite comfortable being onstage. He'd not only been silent so far, but had held unnaturally still, like he was hoping he was camouflaged with the furniture and if he held still the reporters wouldn't see him. He gave it up and fidgeted uneasily. "Yeah I was, but most of the credit has to go to Princess Shuri of Wakanda. Her expertise was really...the only thing that made this possible."

The press briefing only lasted another couple of minutes. When it was over, they posed for photos—Tony enthusiastically and Bruce and Vision with great reluctance. Then the reporters left.

"Did we get any visitors?" Tony asked over the comm.

 _"No. All's quiet on every front,"_ Steve answered, sounding disappointed.

"Keep looking," Tony said. "Night's still young."

They met up with Natasha outside the auditorium.

"Bruce, Vis, why don't you head to the lounge. Pizza should be done," Tony suggested.

"Yeah."

Bruce and Vision went ahead, but Vision could hear Tony and Natasha's low conversation.

"Hey, if you're so in her head, can you tell me why she's a no-show?"

"I don't know. Maybe she thought it was a trap. Maybe she's been off the grid and didn't even hear about it."

"Well, it will be all over the news now. She'll come around."

"And when she does? What exactly is your plan? We can't have me, Sam, Steve, and Clint patrolling the perimeter twenty-four seven."

Bruce unlocked the door with a handprint, and they entered the residential segment of the Avenger Compound.

The light flickered on, revealing a woman standing at the kitchenette.

They froze.

How had she gotten there? Vision wondered. This section of the compound had been locked while the press crews were in the compound. The Avengers had been patrolling the building, watching the security cameras. The compound was surrounded by motion sensors. How had she gotten to the heart of the building without setting off any alarms?

She was also frozen, staring right at him, eyes wide, lips parted.

Wanda Maximoff.

"Vision..." she breathed.

He could only stare at her. What was he supposed to say?

With a flash of red light, she flew into the air, crossing half the room in two seconds and wrapping her arms around him. She buried her face in his neck, the entire length of her body pressed against him.

"Vision," she said in a whimper, barely comprehensible.

He remained frozen, gripped by an emotion he couldn't remember ever feeling before, but he could put a name to:

Panic.

When he didn't respond to her embrace, she drew back, looking at him questioningly. "Vision, what's wrong?" She took a step back, confusion and fear swirling across her face. "Are you Vision?"

"I apologize for the misunderstanding," he said. "My body was revived, but I have none of the memories of the one you knew as Vision. I don't remember you."

Wanda's expression registered shock and anguish, and then it hardened into something stone cold. "No."

Tony and Natasha sprinted into the room.

"Wanda, wait!" Nat shouted.

A red glow appeared around Wanda. She reached out, and Vision felt something grip him from the inside. She was in his head, grasping the Mind Stone like it belonged to her. She lifted his body into the air, then flung it aside forcefully. Without his control, he phased through the wall, then through another one, and another.

He fell to the floor, finding himself in the room they used for training. He was free of her control. A quick check revealed he was undamaged, but he felt weak and fluttery. He didn'f know if that was an after-effect of what she had done to him, or a symptom of his own fear.

He likewise didn't know if it was his fear or a rational evaluation of the circumstances that led him to decide his best course of action was not to return to the lounge, but to hide.

...

... ... ...

...

Nat heard what Vision said just as she got to the door. She understood Wanda's reaction; it was exactly that kind of thing she'd wanted to avoid by carefully breaking the news herself.

Too late now.

"Wanda, wait!"

An explosion of red energy peeled off her, knocking the rest of them back as it enveloped Vision and sent him through the wall.

Tony pressed a button on his watch, and in seconds he was enveloped by an Iron Man suit.

"Let's talk about this, Wanda."

She looked at him. "You. You did this." A ball of energy formed in her hand.

"Yeah, and I can explain, but you need to calm down." As he spoke, he fired up his hand cannon.

Nat grabbed Bruce and pulled him back.

Wanda slammed Tony back against the wall, pinning his arms out. "You don't get to talk! You don't get to explain! You took everyone from me!" She shifted her fingers, and Tony's suit was surrounded by a red glow. "This doesn't belong to you. You never could have built it yourself, could you?"

Tony screamed as she tore the suit off him. She hurled it and him into the window, which shattered. She yanked him back into the room and slammed him to the floor.

"Noooo... _aaarrrr!_ " Bruce screamed as he transformed into the Hulk.

Wanda spun toward him.

Hulk leaped toward her. She didn't even try to dodge. She used her power to vault him over her, then she turned him in the air. Panting with the effort, she levitated Hulk in the air as he thrashed and swung his fists.

Her lips tightened into an expression borderline between a smile and a grimace. "There you are, Hulk. Too bad you couldn't come out when he needed you, when you might have done some _good._ "

Hulk snarled.

"Don't forget, I know what you fear. I unleashed it in your mind last time; this time I can do it to you for real." One hand flexed and curled, sending threads of power into the Hulk.

He shrank, paled. In moments, it was Bruce floating helpless in mid-air. She dropped him to the floor.

She could kill him.

Nat rushed forward, throwing herself over Bruce, shielding him.

Wanda had promised she'd never hurt her. Now was the time to find out if she meant it.

"Wanda, _please."_ She looked into her eyes, imploring.

The fury in Wanda's gaze faltered.

"Please," she repeated.

The red glow around her hands flickered out. She looked from Nat to Bruce. She shook her head, bit her lip. A sob racked her body.

"I'm sorry," Nat said.

Wanda sank to the floor.

Nat left Bruce's side and wrapped her arms around her.

Bruce got shakily to his feet, looking dazed. Nat caught his eye and gestured toward Tony. She wasn't sure what state he was in, but was pretty sure he needed immediate medical attention.

"Will you be okay?" he asked.

Even though she knew he was asking if she'd be safe with Wanda, she answered, "We'll be fine. Go."


	15. Afterimage

Chapter 15: Afterimage

There is a wind where the rose was;  
Cold rain where sweet grass was;  
And clouds like sheep  
Stream o'er the steep  
Grey sky where the lark was.

Nought gold where your hair was;  
Nought warm where your hand was;  
But phantom, forlorn,  
Beneath the thorn,  
Your ghost where your face was.

Sad winds where your voice was;  
Tears, tears where my heart was;  
And ever with me,  
Child, ever with me,  
Silence where hope was.

~Walter de la Mare, "Autumn"

Bruce took Tony to the infirmary after checking for spinal injuries. Tony had a sprained wrist and several cuts that required stitches, but nothing too serious.

"She's gone insane," Tony said. "I had no idea it had gotten that bad. Nat should've warned me."

Bruce considered Tony his best friend, but he had to admit the billionaire had a talent for deflecting responsibility for his mistakes.

"She tried to. She didn't go as far as to call Wanda insane, but she told you something like this might happen."

"You and Hill were right; we have to stop Wanda for good. She's out of control."

After seeing the look on Wanda's face, hearing her cries, Bruce couldn't help but feel sorry for her. But to Tony he just said, "You got any suggestions?"

He scoffed, and shook his head. "It's going to be hard convincing the rest of the Avengers we have to take down one of our own, but I think it's going to take all of us."

"What happened to needing her to find out what happened to Thanos?"

"Did you see her? I don't think we're going to find out anything."

After stitching Tony up, Bruce went back to the lounge. Nat and Wanda were gone. He tried to call Nat, but his call was rejected. He searched the compound for Vision, and found him in the training room.

"You okay?" he asked.

Vision was sitting on the floor. The tall android looked incongruously small and vulnerable at the moment.

"I'm unsure. I feel as if I've been hijacked."

"Are you hurt?"

"I don't believe so. How can another person take control of my powers?"

Bruce sat down on the floor in front of him. "Her powers and your powers both come from the Mind Stone. You said once that her powers have a similar energy signature to the Mind Stone. It's like the Mind Stone doesn't recognize her as a seperate entity."

"I feel frightened," Vision confessed. "Did she injure anyone else?"

"She beat up Tony pretty bad, and she somehow forced the Hulk back, which...no one's ever done before. I knew I shouldn't've worn a new suit today."

"Where is the Scarlet Witch now?"

"I don't know. Nat was talking her down."

"It seems our plan to capture her failed."

"The plan was never really to capture her. Tony thought she would rejoin the Avengers willingly."

"Why did he think she would do that? What made him think I would somehow influence the Scarlet Witch enough to turn her to good?"

"Before Thanos...killed you, you and she were really close."

"Why? How could I have grown close to someone so volatile and malicious?"

Bruce decided this was not the time to divulge just how close Vision and Wanda had been. "I don't know. She wasn't really like this before. Before Thanos. But it was after I left, so I really don't know."

Vision nodded. "What happens now?"

"I think you should go back to your room. Keep the door locked. I'm gonna wait to hear from Natasha."

Bruce went back to his room, and found Nat there.

"How's Stark?" she asked before he could say anything.

"He'll live. He's mad. He thinks Wanda's gone insane."

"Well what did he expect would happen? How would you feel if that happened to you? If I died, you heard I was still alive, you show up and see someone who looks exactly like me but doesn't even recognize you?"

"Me, I'd be crushed. Then the Hulk would make sure everyone else was just as crushed."

"Yeah, if Tony sprang something like that on you, he'd be dead."

"So we can't really blame Wanda. I get the point. Where is she now?"

"I don't know. Gone."

"Will she be okay?"

"I hope so." Nat stepped toward him and placed her hand on his chest. "How are you?"

He shrugged. "Kind of weirded out. No one's ever done something like that to the Hulk."

"What did she threaten him with? You never did tell me what she showed you in Johannesburg. I kind of think I should know."

Bruce looked down. "Remember when I told you what the secret to keeping the Hulk in check is?"

"That you're always angry."

He nodded. He spoke quietly. "What the Hulk hates most and what he fears most is being confined, being trapped. When I figured out the Hulk feels like I keep him buried inside me, trapped inside me...I realized the more I try to bury him the more he's gonna try to escape, try to take over. When I'm angry, I can feel him right there, right beneath the surface, looking out of my eyes, tasting what I taste, feeling what I touch. He doesn't feel so trapped when I do that. It's kind of a compromise, a deal we came up with. When Wanda got in my head, I saw the other Avengers, people I thought were my friends, decide the Hulk was too dangerous. They knew they couldn't kill him, so they buried us...buried me...in a volcano. The Hulk tried to climb out, but the lava hardened. The rock was too hard for him to smash through. He'd be trapped there forever, alive but unable to move. It was his worst nightmare, and it felt completely real." Just remembering it was causing him to shake.

Nat took his hands, massaging them soothingly. "That sounds awful."

He nodded. "I...don't think I can ever forgive Wanda. But I gotta admit, what she went through, with Thanos, killing Vision...that must have been worse."

"Have you seen Vision?" she asked.

"Yeah. He was hiding out in the training room. He was kind of freaked out."

"He must be so confused. God, this whole situation is such a mess."

Bruce nodded, seconding that sentiment. "I think maybe you were right when you said we shouldn't tell him about him and Wanda. I think at this point he would never understand what he ever saw in her."

...

... ... ...

...

Tony was sore, sleep-deprived, and agitated as he walked through the halls of the Avengers Compound early the next morning. He knocked on Vision's door.

"Who is it?" the android asked.

"It's me."

He opened the door. "Mr. Stark, are you alright? Dr. Banner said you had been injured in the attack."

"I'm fine. I was worried about you. How are you doing?"

"I think I'm alright. My systems seem to be functioning."

"Good. If you want I can take you back to my lab later and run a diagnostic."

"That might be a good precaution," Vision said. "Did it cause any lasting damage the first time she did that to me, during the rift over the Sokovia Accords?"

His worry was obvious, and a little bit funny. Tony smiled. "No. And that one left a hole in the floor. You'll be fine."

"Has she been apprehended?"

"Not that I know of."

"Should I perhaps go into hiding?"

Tony shook his head. "If she's going to kill anyone it will be me."

"I don't think we have to worry about her," Nat said from the hallway, where she had just walked up with Bruce. "She was ticked last night, but she's not a killer."

Tony tensed at her intrusion and her cavalier attitude toward the extraordinary threat Wanda posed. "What happened last night?"

"After you left, we talked. Mostly about what an idiot you are."

"Where is she now?" Tony asked.

"Gone."

"Where?"

She shrugged. "I didn't ask."

"You just let her leave?"

"Would _you_ have tried to stop her?"

He would have if she hadn't broken his Iron Man armor, he thought. Of course, Nat didn't even wear armor, and any one of them trying to fight Wanda alone would be suicide. But instead of conceding her point, he said nothing.

Bruce cleared his throat. "We should get breakfast before hashing anything out. And we should figure out how much damage she did."

The four of them headed to the lounge.

"What exactly is your plan for stopping Wanda now?" Tony asked Nat.

"I don't know if we have to anymore. After this, she might just disappear."

"Did she tell you that when you were getting all schmoozy with her last night?"

"Stark, she's not some kind of supervillain. She doesn't have a master plan here. From what I got out of her last night, she has no idea what she's going to do."

Vision spoke up hesitantly. "You say she's not a supervillain, and your history with her would predispose you to think so, but her recent behavior and her attack last night proves she is exceptionally dangerous. It seems to me we must apprehend her."

"Good luck finding her," Nat said. "She grew up on the streets, and she spent two years on the run with me, Steve, and Sam; if she doesn't want to be found, she won't be."

Tony opened the door to the lounge. At first he thought he was hallucinating. There she was, wearing the same clothes she had on the previous night, sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee.

He pressed the button to transform his watch into a hand cannon and aimed it at her.

"Wanda!" Nat said in surprise.

She stood up and turned to them. "Sorry about last night," she said contritely. "And sorry about how I just left after that. I had a lot of...drinking to do. I tried to clean up. I fixed the window. It took me a while to find all the glass."

The window she'd sent Tony through the night before was back in one piece, but not seamlessly. There were lines and ripples showing where it had broken. She had somehow fused the glass back together.

Bruce went over to examine the window. It was an impressive and slightly terrifying demonstration of her power.

"What are you doing back here?" Tony asked.

"Moving in," she replied. "You wanted me back. I'm back."

Tony kept the hand cannon fixed on her. She looked at him, but made no move to prepare to defend herself. Her hands were still wrapped around the coffee mug. It was like she was daring him to shoot her. Or maybe hoping he would.

He deliberated. He might never get another chance to take her down. But she wasn't currently threatening him. If he killed her right now, Nat might just kill him. And if Vision ever got his memory back, he would never forgive him.

He lowered the cannon.

Nat walked up to her. "You still drunk?"

"Yeah, a little."

"Have you slept at all?"

"No."

"No one's touched anything in your old room. It's probably pretty dusty in there, but it's all yours. Go get some rest."

Wanda clasped her shoulder. "Thank you, Nat." She walked out. She hadn't looked in Vision's direction once.

After Wanda left, Nat turned toward Tony, folded her arms, and stared at him challengingly, waiting for him to argue.

"Hey, this was _my_ plan," he reminded her.

She shrugged. "Fair enough."

"I'm confused," Vision said. "Are we merely going to forget she tried to kill us last night?"

"If she'd been really trying to kill us, we'd be dead," said Bruce. He turned away from his examination of the reconstructed window pane. "If Wanda really wants back on the Avengers, she can help save a lot of people. We shouldn't just turn her down."

"She is destructive and unpredictable."

"Yeah, well, so am I," Bruce replied.

Vision raised no more objections, but looked decidedly nervous.

...

... ... ...

...

It had been so long since Wanda had been in this room. She hadn't lived there for long, but it was the only permanent home she'd had since her parents died. There were her photos. There was her guitar. There were her clothes, her pillows.

It was so strange to look at everything and wonder how long it would be until it felt like hers again. She hoped this would work out. A place to stay, a place to rest.

The place where _he_ was. Vision, but not Vision. Vision's beautiful face, but was it his mind behind it? Either way, a Vision who was no longer hers.

She could always leave if it became too painful. There wasn't a prison in the world that could hold her anymore. She would sink the Raft if they sent her back there.

That was a comforting thought.

She crawled into her bed and pulled the blankets over her head.

A tear crawled out of the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek to the pillow.


	16. The Butterfly

Chapter 16: The Butterfly

butterfly—  
you also get mad  
some days

~Chiyo-ni, trans. Patricia Donegan & Yoshie Ishibashi

Nat, Steve, and Sam had organized a movie night. They'd even invited Clint. No one could agree on what movie to watch, and so they didn't end up watching a movie at all, and instead put on some music, ate, drank, and chatted.

Vision had declined to attend.

Tony stood next to the punch bowl. He wondered why no one called this what it obviously was: a welcome-home party for Wanda.

She seemed happy, laughing at Clint's stories, playing games with Steve and Sam, eating snacks, but at the same time she seemed distant.

She came over to the table and poured herself some punch. She turned to watch the party, and hesitated a long moment before speaking to Tony. "I need to apologize to you."

He completely agreed, but in an attempt to be diplomatic asked, "For what?"

"You know for what. I was angry, I was in shock, and I took it out on you. The thing is...my parents died when I was ten..."

"I know."

"Two bombs hit our apartment; one killed our parents instantly. The other didn't explode. Maybe it was a dud, maybe we were just lucky, but Pietro and I were trapped for two days staring at that bomb, at the word on its side."

He knew what that word had been as clearly as if he'd been there. This was the sins of his past coming back to him. "Stark."

"Stark," she confirmed.

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are. For years I blamed you for my parents' death. I thought I was past it, but I guess I'm not."

"So when you said I'd taken everyone away from you, that's what you meant. Them, your brother by creating Ultron, Vision by not stopping Thanos."

She looked down, not meeting his eye. "I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't. Thank you...for trying to bring Vis back."

Tony found he couldn't hold anything against her anymore: not submitting to HYDRA experimentation, not joining Ultron, not trying to kill him. He'd tried to kill Steve over less. Steve had only kept information about his parents' death from him. He had actually been partly responsible for the death of hers. His parents' deaths had hurt him, and had definitely helped shape the hard-drinking, womanizing, egotistical playboy he'd grown into. Wanda had only been a child, and she'd actually seen them die.

He thought of a monarch butterfly, fed a steady diet of poison as a caterpillar to grow up to be poisonous itself. Given Wanda's bleak life, it was hard to imagine any way she wouldn't have ended up either dead or criminal.

And then she'd had a brief taste of happiness and peace with Vision, only to have that ripped away from her.

"I'm sorry it didn't work out how we hoped."

She only nodded. "Nat told me you all decided not to tell him about his relationship with me."

"Well, it wasn't unanimous. It's a tough call."

"It's the right one. He doesn't need that kind of baggage. It's better this way."

She said it with resignation, but in her voice was an undercurrent of someone stricken. He couldn't help thinking about the time when he and Pepper had been taking a break. He still had to work with her, but had to act like he didn't have feelings for her. It had hurt. It must be even worse for Wanda, without any real hope of a reconciliation.

"I should go back to the party," she said. "Nat went to so much trouble to arrange this while pretending it isn't for me, I need her to know I appreciate it."

...

... ... ...

...

Vision entered the conference room and found three people already there: Steve, Sam, and Wanda. They had been chatting and laughing. Wanda's face had a smile the moment he walked in, but it faded away so fast when she saw him that he wondered if he'd imagined it.

She'd been living at the Avengers compound for a little over a week, but they had seen little of each other. Vision had been avoiding her, and he knew she avoided him as well. Every time he caught a glimpse of her down a hallway or in the training room, he'd feel something like electricity shoot through him. She frightened him in ways he didn't understand.

He took a chair at the opposite end of the table.

Nat and Bruce arrived together. Tony and Rhodey came in a minute later. Tony locked all the doors and turned on something that buzzed, meant to short out any potential listening devices.

"So here's the thing," Tony began. "A couple of weeks ago, someone derailed a train carrying a shipment for Stark Industries, and stole a box containing fifty highly experimental, top-secret batteries."

"Batteries?" Steve asked incredulously.

"A battery the size of a floppy disk that can run a house for days without recharging. These batteries have huge implications for clean energy. They could also run, say, a tank or a fighter jet for days without refueling, but I'm really more concerned about getting justice for the security guards who died in the attack."

"What do you want us to do?" Nat asked.

"What I want _you_ to do is sniff around, reach out to your contacts, whatever spy stuff you have up your sleeve and see what you can find out. Like I said, those batteries were top secret. Where they were made, their destination, the train route were all confidential. Something leaked from somewhere. So I made one hundred new batteries, same facility, same channels. Everything's the same, except this time I'm not going to have security guards on the train. I'm going to have us."

"All of us?" Bruce asked.

"Not you or Nat. No offense, but I'd rather not have a Hulk loose on my train. Me, Cap, Rhodey, and Vision, with Sam, Wanda, and Spiderman standing by in case we need backup, which we probably won't."

"Do we have any idea how many people we'll be dealing with?"

"No. Electricity was shut off to the train before the attack; we've got no video. The surviving security guards say it happened too fast to count the attackers, but since they took out the guards simultaneously, we can assume at least five highly trained assailants."

"Doesn't sound too bad," Steve said. "When's our train?"

Tony checked his watch. "Four hours."

...

... ... ...

...

Wanda, Sam, and Spiderman (whose real identity was still unknown to the Avengers besides Tony) followed along the train route in a Quinjet in stealth mode. Sam was piloting while Spiderman peppered him with questions about the jet, about his suit, about his adventures. He'd asked Wanda a few questions about how her powers worked, but she hadn't felt much like answering them, and she might have scared him a little. Tony hadn't told them anything about him other than about his abilities and intelligence, but he sounded very young.

Wanda was watching the train speeding through the hilly landscape below them. They were close enough to the train that she could reach out and run her mind lightly over the minds of those inside. She knew where everyone was. She knew Vision was in the fourth car behind the engine, two cars ahead of Tony. She checked to make sure he was still there every few minutes. It was like having a sore she couldn't stop poking.

She checked each of them to pretend to herself she wasn't just watching Vision. There was Steve just behind the engine. There was Rhodey at the back.

And there was someone outside the train, up ahead. Three...no...four human minds, alert, determined, nervous, poised.

"Something..."

Before she could finish her thought, every light on the Quinjet went out.

"Shit!" Sam swore. "What the hell?"

Thrusters gone, the Quinjet began losing altitude, plummeting toward the boulders below.

Wanda reached out to stop it.

...

... ... ...

...

Vision had the novel, disorienting experience of blacking out. He regained consciousness first, then sensation and mobility as energy flowed back into his body. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out, but he sensed the train was just beginning to lose speed.

As soon as he was able, he flew through the walls of the train cars to Tony.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"My suit lost power. I'm at zero percent. I can't fly or shoot."

"What caused this?"

"The only thing I can think of is an electromagnetic pulse."

"I'll make sure no one takes the batteries."

"Forget the batteries; get to Rhodey. His suit will be dead, too. He won't be able to walk."

Vision nodded crisply. He flew to the back of the train, finding Rhodey sitting on the floor, propping himself up against the wall.

"Power's gone," Rhodey said. "We're slowing down."

"Tony believes we were hit with an electromagnetic pulse."

"Did it affect you?"

"It rendered me unconscious for several seconds," he answered. "Are you hurt?"

"No, but I don't think I'm going anywhere for a while."

Vision wondered if he should stay with Rhodey, report back to Tony, or check on Steve. Before he could decide, something cut through the roof of the train.

"What the hell...?"

Vision also didn't know. It appeared to be some kind of robot, but its shape and color were hard to pin down. It was slightly less than a meter in size, quadripedal with what appeared to be a two-tiered central body. Its legs consisted of round, faceted segments that glinted bronze, gray, and black.

It dropped to the floor of the train car, its legs shifting to right itself.

It took an instant for Vision to make a decision: the timing and manner of this robot's appearance suggested it was part of the attack on the train, and therefore should be assumed to be hostile. He blasted it with an energy beam from his forehead.

It fell to pieces on the floor.

Rhodey had drawn a gun.

"Thanks," he said.

"You're welcome."

Immediately after he spoke, the robot reassembled itself. A couple of segments remained on the floor, apparently too damaged to reassemble. The rest of it began scurrying toward Vision.

He blasted it again.

Another one, nearly identical to the first, dropped from the hole in the ceiling.

"Shit!" Rhodey shot at it. Each bullet took out part of its legs, which would fall to the floor, discarded, as the robot shifted to reform without the damaged segment.

Vision flew forward and grabbed the two robots by their central bodies. They jabbed at him with the sharp points of their legs, but they couldn't scratch his vibranium body. He flew through the roof, over the train, and flung the two robots as hard as he could against the roof.

There were no more of the bots near the back of the train, but he could see four ahead. Three were flying in the air, keeping aloft with two propellers rising above the central body. The fourth was sawing through the roof of the car transporting the batteries.

The batteries...

Something had to be powering these bots. Assuming whoever was manufacturing them was using the 50 batteries from the previous heist, there weren't enough batteries for each individual segment to carry its own power, so each bot likely contained a single battery, most likely housed in the central body.

He picked up one of the bots and broke it open. He saw the battery and tried to pull it out, but when he touched it a bolt of electricity zapped through him. The charge was powerful enough that it would have killed a human. He screamed in pain and fell to the roof, momentarily incapacitated. The bot, drained of all energy, fell apart.

The second bot, now reassembled into a much smaller shape, scurried toward him. Before he could react, it jabbed him with two legs and electrocuted him. It was a lower voltage than the last zap, but sustained. It hurt, and he couldn't move, and by his calculations, if the battery was fully charged, the bot would be able to keep the current up for several minutes. During that time, the other bots might kill Tony and steal the batteries, and Vision was helpless to stop them.

Suddenly the bot was whisked away from him in a tangle of red light. He watched it crumple into a small ball, which was hurled into a cliffside boulder so hard it stuck to the rock.

Able to move once more, Vision sat up and looked around. By the time he spotted the Scarlet Witch, she was flying toward the other four bots, which were rising into the air with the box of batteries suspended between them.

Spiderman jumped onto the train roof and shot the box with a web. One of the bots climbed down and tried to saw off the rope of spider silk. Spiderman wrapped two of the bots in webbing. The Scarlet Witch tore the other two away from the box and crushed them. She used her power to carefully set the box down. Tony and Steve joined them atop the immobile train a minute later. No more bots appeared; the attack was over.

But Vision didn't feel like it. Strong and powerful as he was, the bots had almost immediately identified and exploited his weakness to electricity. Though his life had not been in danger, he felt extremely vulnerable. Wanda had protected him. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He didn't know what he was supposed to say to her after that.

Maybe nothing. She seemed busy talking to Steve and Tony about the attack. She didn't even glance back at him.


	17. Doubts and Fears

Chapter 17: Doubts and Fears

Love is a pretty pedlar  
Whose pack is fraught with sorrows,  
With doubts and fears,  
With sighs and tears,  
Some joys—but those he borrows.

~Robert Jones

In the aftermath of the attack they recovered a total of eight bots: the two Vision and Rhodey had fought, the four that tried to steal the batteries, and two that Steve had fought, finally destroying by smashing the central nodes with his shield. Wanda found the origin of the electromagnetic pulse that had taken out power to the train and Quinjet on a hillside beside the traintracks. There were human footprints there. Humans had set off the EMP and removed any trace of the device that produced it.

Vision watched from a distance as Tony and Bruce disassembled one of the captured bots.

"Weird," Tony said. "The modular technology is remarkably sophisticated. It's powered by a suspension of magnetic liquid surrounding a microchip remotely energized by the central core. It's similar to the nanites that make up my latest suits, but on a larger, more industrially practical scale. But the module shells are basically a patchwork of steel and tin. It's like someone built a supercomputer with stuff they pulled out of a junkyard."

"The design is crude but effective," Bruce said. "The key to it is really the remote powering capacity of your batteries. With a hundred more batteries, it would be easy to build a hundred more of these things. But did you notice the computational capacity?"

"Pretty much nonexistant. There's a receiver in each module and enough memory to orient itself relative to surrounding modules, but these things are definitely getting instructions remotely."

"That could allow us to track the signal back to its source."

"I was thinking the same thing. You know, I gotta say, thank God Wanda was there, or we'd be down one Quinjet, and maybe one Falcon and Spiderman, and whoever built these things would be working on a hundred more right now."

Vision hadn't told anyone what happened to him when he faced the bots alone, and since no one had mentioned it he didn't think Wanda had told anyone either.

"You know what this kind of reminds me of?" Bruce said, "Ultron. Robots built for combat, communicating with each other remotely."

"Yeah, but the design's completely different. Ultron was based on my Iron Legion design. He kept to the human model, the bigger the better. This feels like it was designed by someone more concerned with adaptability. You hear anything from Widow yet?"

"She says she might have a lead she's waiting to hear back on."

Vision couldn't tear his eyes away from the components of the bot spread out across the table. The small, geometric modules that had formed the legs, each slightly smaller than a human fist. The body, a more protective disk housing the battery, some circuitry, and the extendable propellers. It felt uncomfortably like a living thing cut into pieces on the table.

The bots had observed him, adapting to fight him. In the train car, they'd gone after him instead of Rhodey. Was it because they identified him as the greater threat?

"What are your thoughts, Vision?" Bruce asked.

He was a little surprised by the question. He shook his head. "I'm not sure. I'm still trying to figure out my impressions of fighting these beings."

Tony looked at him with a raised eyebrow, then turned back to the table. "Well, I think I'm going to call it a day."

"Yeah," Bruce agreed.

Vision wanted some time to think. He went outside and flew above the compound for a while, returning an hour later.

He entered the lounge and found Wanda in the kitchenette. He saw her tense, but she didn't turn toward him. She stared at the microwave, which was heating a cup of tea.

He deliberated between saying something or pretending he didn't know she knew he was there.

The microwave beeped. She took out her mug and started walking out.

"Miss Maximoff, wait a moment."

She stopped with her hand on the door. She turned her head just enough for him to see the curve of her cheek and chin. "What?"

"I want to thank you."

She said nothing.

"You protected me during the fight this morning," he elaborated.

"What did you expect me to do?"

Her voice sounded strange, strained and slightly defensive.

"I don't know," he answered.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, you know, that night when I came back. I just needed you away." She slowly looked over her shoulder, looking at him directly for the first time since that night. "I will never hurt you again. I want you to know that."

The way she said that frightened him. He couldn't figure out why. "But you could."

She looked away again, at her hand resting on the door. "Yes," she confirmed, her voice quiet and creaky, almost icy. "I could." She turned the doorknob and walked out.

He'd meant to just thank her, to acknowledge what she'd done for him, but perhaps he shouldn't have said anything at all. He was still afraid of her, and she could hardly blame him for that; practically the minute he'd met her she'd thrown him through a wall. It was the way she was acting toward him that made no sense. If she couldn't even stand to be in the same room with him, why did she decide to come back after finding out he was there?

He went to his room to sit in the dark and contemplate. He'd been there only a few minutes when an alarm sounded.

He phased through the wall and found Tony speed-walking down the hallway. Nat and Bruce came out their door moments later.

"What's going on?" Nat asked.

"I'm locking down the compound," Tony answered. "Wanda's gone missing."

"What? How?"

"I don't know. After what she's been up to, after she came back I didn't want her to be able to just leave the compound without notice, so I programmed the building's security system to track her. Five minutes ago, she disappeared. According to the tracking program, she was in her room one second, and the next she was just gone."

"Just gone?"

Sam and Steve had joined them by that point. "How is that possible?" Sam asked.

"Again, don't know."

Tony used his authorization code to unlock the door to Wanda's room. Nothing within looked amiss. The window was intact, the room could have been more tidy, but there were no signs of violence. Her mug of tea was sitting on her nightstand, wisps of steam rising from it.

"You can stop the lockdown sequence," Nat said. "She's already gone, and I'm betting she'll be back before morning."

"She ran away," Tony said.

"She's an adult. We don't have any right to keep her locked up here."

"She's an adult who's spent the last few months on an international vigilante kick. I feel for her, I really do, but we can't just act like she's normal."

"Look, she left her backpack, her photos of Pietro, her rings. She's planning on coming back. Give her some credit."

"She left without telling anyone. The damage she can do..."

"Look, Stark, we've all had a long day, I'm betting she's just gone into town to hit some bars or clubs. If it makes you feel better, I'll go look for her."

Tony thought about it a second, and nodded. "Yeah, okay. If she's not back by morning, then we make finding her top priority."

Nat turned. "You wanna come, Bruce?"

"Yeah."

They left.

Tony sighed. "FRIDAY, abort lockdown."

"On it, boss."

Tony looked around the room for another minute. "She just disappeared. It makes no sense. I'm going to see what I can get from the security logs."

When Tony was gone, Sam took a few steps into the room. Frowning, he picked up her tea, then a book that was lying on her bed.

"I don't get it. She seemed fine this morning. Why would she leave?"

"I think it may be my fault," Vision said.

Sam's lack of reaction indicated he wasn't surprised. He set the book down. "What happened?"

"I spoke to her about the attack on the train, and I think in the course of that exchange I may have said something that upset her."

Sam turned toward him, arms folded. "What did you say?"

"She said she hadn't meant to hurt me the night I met her. She said she would never purposely hurt me. I wanted to explain why I'm still apprehensive around her, so I stated the fact that she could."

Sam nodded. "That would do it."

"I don't understand her reaction."

"I do." Sam sat down, looking at Vision pensively. "There's something you should know. Tony and Nat don't want you to find out because they're worried you'll decide to leave, but in this case they're wrong. You deserve to know. You have the right to know."

"To know what?"

"Before you lost your memory, you and Wanda weren't just friends. You were in love."

It made so little sense that at first Vision suspected he'd misunderstood. "In love?"

"Yeah. You were crazy about each other."

"I was in love with her?" He was an android. Was he even capable of falling in love?

"Yeah."

"She was in love with me?" Could a human woman fall in love with an android?

"Yeah."

"Me and Wanda Maximoff?"

"When Wanda was on the run with me, Nat, and Cap, you'd sneak off to see each other as often as you could. You two had this whole secret message system set up. But we'd always know when she'd get a message from you because she'd just light up."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah. After a while, you weren't even trying to keep it a secret. You'd kiss right in front of us. Whenever you were together, it was just like, get a room. Even Tony knew what was going on."

Vision didn't think Sam had any reason to lie about this, and it could explain Wanda's odd behavior. "Thank you for telling me," he said.

"You needed to know. You need to know how much you can hurt her."

...

Vision retired to his room to contemplate this revelation. He believed it; it explained too much: Tony's plan to use him to rein in Wanda, her intense reaction that night when she saw him alive for the first time, the distance she'd kept between them since.

He took out the mystery lock of hair he'd found hidden in his room. The color and texture were a match to Wanda's. Even the red ribbon evoked her code name, the Scarlet Witch. He couldn't think of any reason he would have kept a clipping of her hair other than as some kind of old-fashioned love token.

He looked at her face in one of the photos on his shelf. Had he really fallen in love with her? How? Bruce had said she'd been different before Thanos's attack. Perhaps he'd once seen something in her that couldn't be expressed in official records.

Had he found her particularly beautiful? He wondered as he continued to look at her photograph. He found every human face beautiful, each in its unique way. What in her had caught him? Had she expressed interest in him first and he had simply responded in kind, falling in love with someone for no reason other than that she had been capable of loving him?

He wished the others had told him about his past with Wanda before he'd faced her. That had been a reckless and insensitive decision. Perhaps they thought they were protecting him. They had feared he would leave if he knew the truth, but it had led to him unintentionally causing pain. Wanda had told him she would never hurt him, and he had thrown her words back in her face. It had perhaps been the cruelest thing he could possibly say to her, and because of that she had left. She might never return this time.

He must have trusted her completely to know she had the power to control and possibly even destroy him, and to let himself love her anyway.

He had hurt her, driven her away, depriving the Avengers of a powerful asset and possibly turning her into a powerful enemy. He hoped fervently that Natasha was right and Wanda would return of her own accord. He didn't know what he would do if she didn't.

He also didn't know what he would do if she did. Could he ever learn not to fear her?


	18. The Hangover

Chapter 18: The Hangover

Bereaved of all, I went abroad—  
No less bereaved was I  
Upon a new Peninsula—  
The Grave preceded me—

Obtained my Lodgings—ere myself—  
And when I sought my Bed—  
The Grave it was reposed upon  
The Pillow for my Head—

I waked to find it first awake—  
I rose—It followed me—  
I tried to drop it in the Crowd—  
To lose it in the Sea—

In Cups of artificial Drowse  
To steep its shape away—  
The Grave—was finished—but the Spade  
Remained in Memory—

~Emily Dickinson

"Four-seventeen a.m.," Tony said when Nat and Bruce arrived for breakfast the next morning.

Nat blinked at him. "No, it's eight o'clock." She was too groggy after her late night to pull off the joke.

"That's what time the security system says Wanda got back last night. She just showed up in her room, without tripping any of the motion detectors. Security video shows her door didn't even open. Do you have any idea where she was or how she got in?"

Nat sighed and poured herself some coffee. "No."

"We searched for hours last night," Bruce elaborated. "We checked bars, hotels. There was no sign of her."

Tony rubbed his forehead. "Did you know I killed her parents?"

Nat answered. "Did I know the bombs that hit the apartment they lived in were manufactured by Stark Industries? Yeah."

"So she told _you_."

"She told Ultron. Ultron told me."

Tony and Bruce both stared at her.

"What? He liked to talk, especially about how much he hated you."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tony asked.

"Honestly, I didn't think it was something you needed on your conscience."

"I'm responsible for her," he said. "What she's done, she did because of what I did to her. I created Ultron because of the vision she gave me, so in a way she created Ultron, but she volunteered for the HYDRA experiments that gave her powers because of her parents' deaths, so by that same line of reasoning, I creater _her,_ so I'm responsible for whatever damage she does."

Nat rolled her eyes. "This is exactly why I never told you. Check you ego, Stark. Wanda chose to set off those nightmare bombs, Ultron chose to try to end civilization. The responsibility for the Maximoffs' deaths lies with the people who decided to drop those bombs, not you. Everyone in this little story is a grown-up making their own choices."

"We can't risk losing track of Wanda again. Do you think you could plant some kind of tracking device on her?"

Nat wondered if Tony was even listening. She decided to give him a break because of how little sleep he'd obviously gotten. "We're not going to do that," she stated.

Wanda walked in. She squinted at them for a moment. "Morning," was probably what she mumbled before stumbling toward the coffee. She looked terrible. Her face was puffy, her eyes were red, and her hair was a mess. She was wearing the same clothes she'd been in the night before, and the smell of alcohol wafted off them.

"Where were you last night?" Tony asked her, though to his credit he kept his voice soft. He after all could sympathize with a hangover.

"None of your business." She put her mug of black coffee down on the counter and pressed her fingers to her temples, muttering something Nat was pretty sure was a Sokovian expletive.

"How did you get out?" Bruce asked her curiously.

"You know, I don't need this entero...intero...questioning. I can go wherever I want. And don't think I don't know that you're trying to keep me locked up here, _again._ It won't work. If I want to leave I'll leave."

"How much have you had to drink?" Nat asked

"Too much." She took a gulp of coffee, wincing and swearing again as it burned her tongue.

"You want some breakfast?" Bruce asked. "Want me to make you a fried egg or something?"

Wanda pulled the trash can from under the counter and threw up in it.

"Toast?" Bruce asked.

She spat. Still leaning over the trash, she answered. "Toast sounds great."

...

... ... ...

...

Wanda went back to bed after breakfast. When she woke again it was one in the afternoon. Hungry, thirsty, and with a taste in her mouth that reminded her of the smell of dead rat, she made her way to the kitchen.

Had she not been so off her game, she would have felt a presence before opening the door, and she wouldn't have found herself face to face with Vision, only a few meters away from her, with her defenses down.

She froze.

He also looked startled. "Hello, Miss Maximoff. I was hoping I would see you here. I..." He looked down. He was holding a gift bag. "I have a peace offering."

"Peace offering?" she repeated. It was all she could manage looking at his beautiful face so close, so clear, the face she never believed she would see in life again after obliterating it herself.

Something like panic filled his eyes. His living, expressive eyes. Not the blank eyes in a gray face, a hole in his forehead where his light should be. But she could see that face as distinctly as the one in front of her.

"I'm sorry. I misspoke. Of course it's not a peace offering." He smiled nervously. "We aren't at war. It's a token of... It's an apology." He held the bag toward her. "I need to apologize."

She blinked at it blankly. His hands, his long fingers, red as rubies, holding the handle. If she reached out to accept it, she might touch him, might accidentally brush his fingers with hers. What could she do? She couldn't turn and run; her legs felt wobbly, uncoordinated. If she tried to walk, she would fall over. She couldn't reach out toward him: her arms felt like jelly. She told them to move and they wouldn't. She couldn't even breathe, not more than quick, shallow breaths that didn't feel like they were reaching her lungs.

"It's...I heard you were unwell this morning, so I got you some tea. Spearmint. It's supposed to be soothing."

"Is it?" she whispered.

She felt like she wasn't even in her body, like she was watching herself from a distance, like she was seeing herself on stage, an actress forgetting all her lines on opening night, watching herself being an idiot and helpless to stop it.

When she failed to make a move to accept the gift, Vision's face fell. He turned away and set the gift bag on the table. "I'm sorry. That was out of line. It was foolish of me."

With his face turned away from her, she could suddenly breathe and move again. "No!" She was causing him pain and it made her wish she were dead. "I'm sorry. That's very thoughtful of you. It's just...you don't owe me an apology. You've done nothing you need to apologize for. Please, tell me you know that."

He shifted uncomfortably before facing her again. This time she was more prepared for the sight of his eyes and managed to maintain some semblance of composure.

"Wanda, I'm aware that before I lost my memory, we were close friends. I believe the new reality that has been imposed on us is...rather disorienting for both of us."

She laughed breathily, and didn't know if she was closer to hysterical laughter or tears. 'Disorienting' was an understatement.

Vision looked back at the gift bag on the table. "If not an apology, consider it a belated birthday present, then."

He'd been dead for her birthday, she noted.

He left without another word. She stumbled to the table and collapsed into a chair, her legs giving out. She reached toward the gift bag, then instead dropped her weak, trembling hands to the table. Why hadn't she said anything? Why hadn't she thanked him? She'd made a fool of herself, hurt and offended him. Not knowing their past, not knowing what she'd done, how would he interpret her reaction? He must think she despised him.

She opened the bag, finding the box of tea and a mug. It was a souvenir mug for upstate New York, printed with a photograph of winter scenery, a covered bridge surrounded by snow-covered trees.

It was so like Vision to try to fix a problem he didn't even understand, to try to heal a wound he couldn't comprehend.

After sitting there holding the mug for several minutes, she unsteadily stood to make some tea.

...

... ... ...

...

Nat returned to the compound late that night after following up a lead, finding Bruce sitting at their table, a dozen scholarly journals, textbooks, and printouts spread out in front of him, a highlighter in one hand, and in the other a mechanical pencil poised above a notepad. He looked so adorably nerdy she couldn't resist circling her arms around him and placing a kiss on his neck.

"Careful with that," he said teasingly. "It's not date night."

"It could be. We could go see if the training room's free," she replied.

He looked at her over the rim of his reading glasses. "Tempting, but...it's a little late to risk the other guy getting out. Besides, I think I'm onto something here."

"What are you working on?"

"I was thinking about where Wanda could've gone last night. She couldn't have gotten far being that drunk in the middle of the night, right?"

"Probably not," she agreed.

"We know she wasn't here, we checked every bar within twenty miles, she doesn't have any friends around here besides us. So where did she go?"

"That's the million-dollar question." She looked at the graphs and calculations. "You've got a theory?"

"When Tony and I were trying to talk Dr. Strange into giving us the Mind Stone, he said something really interesting. A couple of things, actually."

"What?"

"We were talking about multiple universes, and Dr. Strange said he's seen several other universes. He also said if Wanda has to be stopped, he's probably the only one who could stop her. So I was thinking, what if those two things are connected? What if when Wanda disappears, she's going to another universe?"

Nat considered that, brow furrowed, frowning thoughtfully. "It would explain how she can disappear. And what she meant when she said Thanos is alive but somewhere where he can't hurt anyone. 'The universe'. She said Thanos would never be a threat to _the universe_ again. Those were her exact words. He's not a threat to this universe because he isn't _in_ this universe."

"So where is he? Is he a threat to another universe?"

"The impression I got is that he's imprisoned." Nat drummed her fingers on the tabletop. "She wants to tell someone. Part of keeping a secret is fighting the temptation to tell it. Being able to travel to parallel dimensions, that's kind of a big deal, especially for a girl who grew up on the streets. She must be dying to share this with someone. But she's also worried. She feels like everyone's afraid of her, like her powers cause people to keep her at a distance, and she's afraid of how much worse it would be if they found out she could do something that extraordinary."

"So she wants to tell, but she also wants to keep it secret. Sounds like a job for a spy," Bruce noted.

"It does, doesn't it," she agreed.


	19. Consolation

Chapter 19: Consolation

The hope I dreamed of was a dream,  
Was but a dream; and now I wake  
Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old,  
For a dream's sake.

I hang my harp upon a tree,  
A weeping willow in a lake;  
I hang my silenced harp there, wrung and snapt  
For a dream's sake.

Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart;  
My silenced heart, lie still and break:  
Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed,  
For a dream's sake.

~Christina Rosetti, "Mirage"

Wanda was the last one to the meeting. She took a seat at the opposite end of the conference room from Vision. It had been five days since he'd given her the tea, and this was the first time they'd been in the same room since.

She didn't look toward him, but she could see him from the corner of her eye as she faced Nat. Even if she couldn't see him, she could still feel him, sense the crystal-clear sparkle of his mind. She could have turned off that part of her power, looked away from him with her mind as easily as she could with her eyes, but she somehow couldn't bring herself to, no matter how much it tore her apart.

"Okay," Nat began, "here's what we know about the robots that attacked Stark's train—the bots which Stark, for no good reason, has decided to call 'spiderbots'..."

"They look like spiders," Tony declared.

"Spiders have eight legs," she replied.

"You don't."

"Not that you've seen."

Tony shrugged. "If anyone's got a better idea for what to call them, I'm open to suggestions."

Nat rolled her eyes and moved on. "Here's what I've been able to dig up. A few months ago, at least six people in prisons all over the country went missing after apparent computer glitches scheduled their early release. They were low-level criminals, drug possession mostly. One attempted murder. These people had one thing in common: they were metalworkers: professional welders, a mechanic, an amateur jeweler. The kind of people who could have built these...spiderbots. Of the missing people who had families, those families received thousands of dollars from an anonymous source within the last month. I was able to track that money to a company called Milianix. Milianix is, as far as I can tell, a shell corporation, but I haven't been able to figure out what it's a shell for. I haven't been able to determine who's running it or where the money's coming from. But over the past three months it has ordered exactly the kind of high-density microchips and wireless transmitter components that we found in the spiderbots. Thousands of them. They were delivered to a warehouse in Wisconsin that conveniently burned down a few weeks ago."

"Let me guess, those components weren't recovered in the rubble," Steve said.

"Nope. There are more of these things out there. Someone's trying to build a new robot army. The good news is it doesn't look like they have a lot of human resources to work with. And with any conventional power source, these bots will have a limited range."

"With my batteries, on the other hand, one of these spiderbots could fly around the world," Tony pointed out.

"That's another thing; spiders don't fly," Nat said. "We've got to come up with a better name for these."

"The name's not important. There are fourty-two of my batteries still out there."

"And the risk they'll reverse-engineer them and start making their own. I'm keeping my ears open for anything else, but so far, that's all I've got." She folded up her laptop and walked out, signaling the end of the status meeting.

"She seem kind of stressed out to you?" Sam asked Wanda and Steve.

"Yeah. She does seem a little more...irritable than usual. Is something going on with her?" Steve replied.

"Not that I know," said Wanda.

"I'm sure she's fine. If something were bothering her, she'd tell us," Steve stated.

...

... ... ...

...

Nat hit the punching bag again and again, working up a sweat. She was the only person in the gym at the moment.

Lying was easy. All you had to do was have a clear idea of what you want to say in your mind, hold it as clearly as a truth, and then not question it. But would it work when the person she needed to convince could get into her head?

She thought it might. Wanda had said she couldn't read thoughts, she could only pick up on strong emotions and images. And with any luck, she wouldn't even try to read her, wouldn't even question her honesty.

Emotions. Nat could manipulate her own emotions to achieve any affect she needed. The circumstances called for agitation, worry, doubt.

Wanda tried to keep her steps quiet as she entered the room. Nat pretended she didn't know she was there and turned her attention back to the punching bag, hitting it with unnecessary force she never would have wasted on a real foe. She kicked the bag, dodged it as it swung back toward her, and sent it spinning with an elbow. She left it there to grab a gulp from her water bottle.

"You okay?" Wanda asked.

"Fine. Why?"

"You just seem...stressed," Wanda said.

This was an important moment. Be too forthright and the target might suspect deception, too convincing and the target walks away.

"I'm fine," Nat said, just a little bit too forcefully.

"It doesn't seem like it."

Nat sighed and sat down on a weight bench. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you sure? Sometimes just talking about what's bothering you can make it feel better."

She was trying so hard to be a friend, Nat thought.

"It's personal." That one was a risk; some people would decide the most polite, respectful, and friendly thing to do would be to leave it at that.

And Wanda looked like she wasn't sure what to do. "I saw Dr. Banner eating breakfast this morning. You usually eat together. Did you have a fight?"

If Nat didn't have so much control over her expression, she would have smiled. Instead she exhaled slowly. "No. We don't have fights; Bruce can't risk it. We had a disagreement."

"What was it about?"

"It's not really about anything."

"Then it wouldn't bug you so much," Wanda said.

Nat sighed. "So, with my life being what it is... With our lives what they are, we never know when we might have to disappear, either together or seperately. I don't want any unnecessary paper trails. For example, I don't want to get married. Besides, it's just not important to me. I don't think I should have to sign my name on a piece of paper as proof of how I feel about someone. Bruce knows that. But he dropped a hint that maybe we should think about getting married anyway."

"And that's what you were not fighting about?"

"It's just, I've explained my position. I don't think I should have to keep defending it. I feel like maybe he doesn't believe me, like he thinks I'll change my mind."

"I hope you work it out. You two seem so happy together."

"We are," Nat said, taking care to sound frustrated but sincere. "But sometimes... You know, I like it here, I really do. I love being part of this team; it makes me feel like I'm doing something good. But for years I worked alone, and sometimes I miss that solitude. I miss the freedom of just being able to disappear when I want to. Maybe I need to take a break, go off on my own for a bit. But I'd hate for Bruce to take it the wrong way. It's not that I want to take a break from him, it's just I need some time for myself."

"I can see how that might be hard to tell him without hurting his feelings," Wanda said. "But if you're in a relationship where you can't really argue, time apart might be what you need to work things out. Do you want me to talk to him?"

It was a touching offer considering Wanda still hardly spoke to Bruce. Nat did feel guilty using Wanda's lovesickness to manipulate her, but if it worked it would be worth it. "No thanks. You make him nervous. You know, he was telling me about this theory he has. So, Dr. Strange can travel to alternate universes..."

She noted Wanda tense up. "He can?"

"Yeah, apparently. Bruce was saying you might have the same power, and that's how you can disappear from your room without the door opening."

Nat had taught Wanda a lot of deception techniques when they were on the run together, but she didn't have Nat's years of careful training controlling her expression. A deer-in-the-headlights look crossed her countenance. She brought it under control quickly, but not quickly enough.

Nat looked at her with a slight smile and raised eyebrows, letting her know she'd been caught. "Where did you go the other night?"

Wanda looked at her thoughtfully for a long moment, then flashed a mischievous smile. "Want to see?"

"What do you mean?" Nat asked.

"You said you wanted to get out of here for a while. I can take you."

This was more than Nat had been hoping for. It would be putting a lot of trust in Wanda to accept the offer. But she was intensely curious. "Now?"

"You should grab a coat; it's winter there too. Come to my room in ten minutes." She sounded excited.

Nat took a quick shower, dressed warm, and packed some easily concealable weapons, just in case.

"Ready?" Wanda asked.

"I don't know."

She smiled. "It'll be fine. Trust me."

Standing in the middle of her room, Wanda stretched out her fingers. They began twitching, creeping. It looked like they were weaving, or moving puppets on strings. Red light spread out, growing in patterns of veins, surrounding Wanda, surrounding Nat.

 _This will be fun,_ she told herself, suppressing nervous jitters.

The room around her seemed to dissolve, the colors bleeding away, fading. She felt something like static electricity run along her body, lifting her.

The colors around her coalesced into a cloudy white sky, the dark blue lake, and snow-covered forest. The compound was gone, and she was floating in mid air, still in the solid grip of Wanda's energy.

Wanda lowered them both slowly to the ground. They were in forest, but the trees were different. The deciduous trees were bare, and more or less familiar, though the bark seemed brighter shades of browns and reds than normal. There were evergreen trees that were obviously unlike any Nat had ever seen: the leaves were long green spines growing straight up from the branches. Everything just felt strange.

"Come on, it's this way." Wanda started leading the way through the trackless forest. Nat followed her, looking back to where their footprints suddenly appeared in the snow.

"So, this isn't...Earth?" she asked.

"Yes and no." Wanda sounded excited to explain. "There are...I don't even know how many universes, or dimensions or whatever you want to call them. New ones branch off sometimes, I don't know how often or how. But there are millions of universes with a planet just like Earth at the exact point in space where Earth is. Some of them are nearly identical to the Earth we know: same people, same languages, same moon, same laws of physics, or at least pretty much the same. Some are a little bit different, and some are unrecognizeably different. There are plenty that are uninhabitable. If we even set foot there, we'd be dead in seconds. There are also lots of universes where there's no planet here, just empty space, or a star. I don't go to those places, obviously, but I can feel them when I go looking."

Something like a winged and furry snake flew from one branch to another overhead, and there was some kind of trilled sound somewhere off in the woods.

"And this world?" Nat asked.

"It's Earth. Same moon, same continents. But...different."

"How different?"

"Evolution went in a different way here. It works differently than on our Earth. You'll see."

They came to the edge of a town after only a few minutes of walking. The architectural style was unlike anything Nat had seen before. The buildings were made primarily of stained wood, built into cylindrical structures, some as tall as five story buildings. Round forms predominated: the doors and windows were large and round. Some of the buildings had what Nat guessed were signs, written in a loopy script she couldn't identify.

The streets were bridges raised above the ground. Wanda levitated them onto the nearest one.

There were... _things_ passing along the road up ahead. Nat froze.

"What are those?" she whispered to Wanda.

"People. The inhabitants of this city."

"People? Those...are not people."

"You're not going to freak out and embarass me, are you? I thought you of all people would be able to deal with something you're not used to. You date the Hulk." She was absolutely gloating over having thrown the Black Widow off her game.

"You should have warned me. I mean, Hulk is human. He looks human." Especially compared to the things she was looking at now.

"Humans never evolved on this version of Earth. Like I said, evolution works differently here. Come on, the bar isn't far."

Wanda walked on, straight toward the crowd. She passed by a group of the creatures without a glance. Comparing them to Wanda's height, Nat guessed some of them were nine and ten feet tall.

She caught up with Wanda, trying not to stare or shy away from the beings they passed.

"It's like Lovecraft rewritten by Dr. Seuss," she said.

"I'm not sure what that means," Wanda replied. She walked into the large circular entrance of one of the buildings.

Nat followed close behind her. The bar had no chairs. Customers sat on padded sections of the floor next to low, narrow circular tables. It made sense that this society wouldn't have chairs; she couldn't imagine any design that would accommodate all the body structures she'd seen so far.

Wanda walked up to a tall, spindly, blue-green creature behind a curving table, held up two fingers, and said a word Nat didn't catch. The bartender poured liquid from a bottle into two cups, which Wanda took to an unoccupied table.

Nat sat next to her.

"It's crowded today," Wanda mentioned.

Nat listened to the sounds the other patrons were making. It was speech. Conversations. But it sounded nothing like any language she'd ever heard.

"Are they staring at us?" she asked. It was hard to tell. She couldn't even decide where the eyes were on some of them.

Wanda glanced up and smiled. "They think we're twins. We look like identical twins here." She handed her one of the cups, which were much wider at the brim than the base and had a rough finish on the outside. "I know they look strange, but these really are the friendliest people I've ever met."

It still seemed strange to think of them as 'people'. But what else should they call them? If any one of them showed up on Earth, they'd be labelled a monster and probably attacked on sight.

"So, they don't understand English?"

"No. My guess is this universe and our universe split billions of years ago, way before English developed. And whatever technology the aliens in our universe use to translate every language hasn't been invented here."

None of the aliens Nat had ever seen had been so alien. "So there's no one on this planet that looks like us?"

"Not that I've seen. It would be quite a coincidence." She lifted her cup. "You know, five days ago I promised myself I'd never drink again. So much for resolutions." She took a gulp.

Nat tasted it. The flavor reminded her of gin and tonic infused with Sichuan pepper. "This isn't bad."

"This Earth has some good cocktails."

"What do they use for money here?"

"They don't, as far as I can tell. People just walk in, order, and leave. At the market, people just take what they need. I have no idea how it works."

Nat looked around curiously. Could it be possible this species—if such varied physical forms constituted just one species—was truly cooperative? That they could build a functioning society based on trust? Or was there some sort of credit or automatic payment system Wanda just couldn't see? Would they have to fight their way out if they left without paying?

"How did you find this place?" Nat asked.

"Well, after I got back to Earth, I was looking for a permanent place to keep Thanos..."

"Okay, back up. How did you get back to Earth, and what did you do with Thanos before?"

"When I was fighting Thanos and I realized he was too physically strong for me to kill, I kind of...just let my power do whatever. You have to understand, at that point...I didn't care if I died. I didn't really care if anyone else died either. My emotions have always fueled my power, and I just poured...all of that, all of what I was feeling, at him. The Infinity Stones are kind of...the center points of the different layers that form the universe. It's really hard to explain. I got a glimpse of it in the one I was sent to in the Snap. The people Thanos dusted...he sent us to one of those layers. Another of those layers...is mine."

"Is...yours?" Nat asked, sincerely confused.

"The Mind Stone. The powers it gave me. It gave me the ability to manipulate one of those layers. So when I let my power loose in an attempt to just...annihilate Thanos," her lip curled at his name, "even if it took me with him, we ended up in that layer. Just like he'd trapped me in another, I trapped him in mine. But I couldn't keep him there. For one thing, I could always feel him, like an itch inside my mind. He didn't belong there and I didn't want him there, in a place that belonged to me, in a place that had belonged to Vision before Thanos killed him." She paused and took a deep breath, and continued in a more subdued voice. "And I wasn't sure he couldn't escape. After all, he understands the Infinity Stones in ways I don't. When I left my dimension, I was back on Earth. I was actually in Edinburgh, which I think is where I ended up when the change in the timeline resolved. But I was alone. I didn't know about the change in the timeline yet. I didn't know the Snap was undone. So I left. I left...our universe. I had some understanding of it, of what my powers might allow me to do, from being trapped in two layers of our universe. It helped me see the shape of it. So I tried to break through, to see what was on the other side. I found my way to other Earths. I was looking for a good place to dump Thanos, and along the way I found so much more."

Nat listened in rapt attention, occasionally sipping her drink. "And this is one of the places you found?"

"Yes. It was a particularly hard time. I'd just been to an Earth that was nearly identical to ours, that had the Avengers. I'd seen myself and Vision on TV, and...I'm not proud of some of the possibilities I was contemplating. And then I left and came here, a world that didn't remind me of my Earth at all. It was refreshingly different. I was in a bad state, crying like a lost child, and some people found me. Even though they didn't understand a word I said, they could tell I was in distress. I think they thought water coming out of my eyes was some kind of medical condition. They brought me some water and food and a blanket. They felt compassion for me and tried to help. And yes, they looked like monsters, but I have the advantage of being able to sense their intentions, so I knew from the beginning they meant me no harm. I come here when I don't want to be alone but also don't want to be around humans." She looked up and made an odd gesture that looked like painting a dot in the air with an invisible paintbrush. A bar patron on the way out the door returned the gesture. "I know her. She was here last time," she explained at Nat's questioning look.

"So, the...people here...do they know where you're from?"

"No. They're curious about me because I can't speak their languages, but I don't think it's crossed any of their minds that I could be from another world altogether. This is a world where your siblings and your children might be a completely different color or have a different number of limbs than you do, where you might have tentacles and your neighbor might have wings. Here differences aren't considered strange. Differences are celebrated; they are a basis of cooperation, not a hindrance to it."

"How can you know so much about their mindset without understanding their language?"

"I've watched their sports." She pointed across the room to a cylindrical screen showing what looked like a race across an elaborate obstacle course. "That's called 'fshã'un'. It's very popular."

Some patrons sitting nearby raised their cups and shouted "Fshã'un!" when they heard her mention it.

"I've picked up a few words," Wanda said. "It's lucky they use spoken language at all. In some of the versions of Earth I've been to where things other than humans ended up the dominant lifeform, they use only nonverbal forms of communication I've never been able to figure out."

Nat took a large swig of her drink, then set the cup down on the table. "I have to ask, with so many versions of Earth to choose from, why did you come back to ours?"

"It's home. I wanted to hone my powers while trying to make it a better place. I know a lot of people don't agree with the way I tried to do that, but I'm not sorry for the things I've done. I was trying to help, and I was trying to help my home Earth."

"Did you look for a world where there was a version of Vision with no Wanda?"

"Yes. And found a couple. But...they aren't _my_ Vision. I've given a lot of thought to it. To be with another version of Vision would feel too much like a dishonor to his memory. I would have to hide my history from him, lie to him. I couldn't keep it up for long."

"Did you ever meet another version of yourself?"

"I actively avoided it. I learned to stay away from anyone who knew me. It was too weird, and sometimes dangerous. There are worlds where the Avengers are my enemies. It seems like about half the worlds where I get powers, I don't end up on the side of good. That's not really a surprise, I guess. I didn't exactly in our world either."

"I'm guessing I end up on the side of good less than half the time," Nat commented.

"You'd be surprised. Nat, you were raised and taught to be evil, but you chose to leave that behind, you broke away from that. It says a lot about you. It's much more common for people to go the other way."

Nat looked at her thoughtfully, then glanced around the room. She was starting to get used to this place, starting to see the varied bizarre creatures as just people enjoying a drink at a bar.

"This is a nice Earth," Wanda said. "I like it here. I've seen some terrible ones."

"Really?" Nat asked.

"You've saved the Earth four times, from the Chitauri invasion, from HYDRA, from Ultron, and from Thanos. But there is never a guarantee that the right side wins. I've seen Earths where it didn't." A distant, haunted look crossed her face. Then she shook her head, clearing away the gloom. "Sorry. Didn't mean to bring down the mood."

"It's okay. I get having things you don't want to talk about. If you ever do want to talk about about them, I'm good at keeping secrets."

Wanda chuckled. "Right." A moment later, she hesitantly said, "About the thing with you and Dr. Banner, I understand why you don't want to get married, but it might be something that's important to him. If it means a lot to him, but it doesn't matter to you, maybe you should ask why it's important to him." She sighed. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business. It's just... The last night I had with Vision, our last night together in Edinburgh, he asked me to stay with him. To stay with him for good. I would have loved to marry him, not so much to have a piece of paper saying we were official, but more to tell the world that we were together. But that was more than we could really hope for. The closest we could get would be running away together. I never really gave him an answer. And now I'll never get that chance."

"You never know," Nat said, moved by the forlorn resignation in Wanda's voice. "He's back. He fell for you before; it could happen again."

Wanda shook her head sadly. "I'm not the same woman he fell in love with. Not anymore."

"You don't know that."

"I know him."

She sounded so convinced. Nat felt sorry for her. "Then, if you don't mind me asking, why did you come back?"

Wanda looked down at her drink for a long moment before answering. "I'm not sure how much of Vision survives now, without his memory. But it's something. And whatever is left of him, I'm going to protect it."

...

... ... ...

...

Bruce looked up from the book he was reading when Nat walked in later that evening.

"Did it work?" he asked. "Did she tell you?"

She sat down, a dazed look on her face. "You are not going to believe where I've been."


	20. Mist and Snow

Chapter 20: Mist and Snow

Suddenly the sky turned grey,  
The day,  
Which had been bitter and chill,  
Grew soft and still.  
Quietly  
From some invisible blossoming tree  
Millions of petals cool and white  
Drifted and blew,  
Lifted and flew,  
Fell with the falling night.

~Melville Cane, "Snow Toward Evening"

Bruce sat at the coffee table watching fluffy chunks of snow bump against the window. Nat was out in that storm: she'd flown to Wisconsin to follow up on a possible lead about the spiderbots, and had just called to say she'd be gone at least another night. He missed her, and he was worried about her.

Wanda entered the lounge, poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat down by him.

"Hi," she said.

He tensed, but returned her greeting. "Hey."

She looked out the window and sipped her coffee for a moment. "I think it's about time you and I talked. I know you're scared of me. You don't have to pretend you're not. I really don't blame you."

"You do scare me," he admitted. "I know the kinds of things you're capable of. And what's even scarier is to think about what you're capable of that we don't know about. But Nat trusts you, and she has really good judgment."

"She told me you spoke up for me when I wanted to come back to the Avengers. That means a lot to me from you, after what I did in Johannesburg."

Bruce squirmed at the reminder of that event. "After everything, I think you've earned another chance."

She gave him a small smile. "Still, I want you to know how sorry I am about that."

"It was a long time ago."

"Not that long, really. And it's not something I'd expect you to ever forgive me for."

He wasn't sure what to say to that, since he kind of felt the same way. He cleared his throat, trying to come up with something he could change the subject to.

Wanda spoke again before he could. "I wanted to say, Nat really cares about you a lot. I've gotten to know her really well over the years, especially when we were on the run together. She's really good at acting, and because of that she kind of feels like she has touble really connecting with people. She worries people don't trust her when she's being genuine. But she genuinely loves you. I hope you know that."

"I do."

"She's a really great person. You're lucky to have her."

He was getting nervous. He'd been worried Wanda might talk to him after the story Nat came up with to manipulate her, but it had seemed a small risk.

"Believe me, I know how lucky I am," he said.

It had been the wrong thing to say. Or maybe Wanda was picking up on his nervousness. She tilted her head, looking at him keenly, frowning. "Of course you do. Because there never was a fight, was there? Nat lied to me. Oh my God. I'm such an idiot."

Bruce felt himself going into panic mode. "It wasn't her fault. It was my idea. I wanted her to find out the truth of your dimension traveling, to find out where Thanos is. You wouldn't tell her before."

He was rambling. Wanda gave him an odd look. "Do you think I would hurt her? She tricked me, and I'm angry, but I would never hurt Nat. She's my best friend."

She was hurt that he'd immediately fear for Nat's safety, but he couldn't deny that was exactly what he'd been thinking. "I'm sorry," he said. "Maybe I'm projecting. When I get as angry as you have every right to be right now, people get hurt."

Wanda looked down at her hands. "It's okay. I don't have the best history with my temper either. I hold grudges, and they haven't always been aimed at the right people." She took a deep breath. "You want to know where Thanos is, and you deserve to know. He's one of the only people who's a threat to the Hulk, so where he is would be a big concern to you."

"Is he on another version of Earth?"

She smiled slightly. "You'd never recognize it as Earth. The entire surface of the planet is an ocean of ice. There's no life there, other than what lives in the ocean beneath the ice and the tiny plants that float in the air. I was hoping the cold would freeze him, but he's too strong for that. He's made sure of it. I've gotten glimpses into his head, seen some of his memories. He spent hundreds of years making himself strong, changing his own body, injecting himself with chemicals and genes to become what he is. He doesn't need to eat. He gets weaker without food, but whatever he injected himself with that turned him purple lets him get energy from sunlight."

Bruce stared at her. He had so many questions about Thanos; he hadn't imagined Wanda would have so many answers. "Retinal. It's a pigment that can be used for photosynthesis. It's less efficient than chlorophyll, but much simpler. He must have inserted genes into his genome to let his body produce it."

"I had no idea. I never learned about anything like that in school."

It both amazed and concerned him that someone with so little formal education had the power to move between dimensions. "What else has Thanos done to modify himself?"

"He's made himself heal fast. The arm Thor cut off? It's growing back."

"I wonder if you and I working together could find a way to kill him."

"I don't want to kill him anymore," Wanda replied. "Death might end his suffering. Right now, he's alone, he's cold all the time, he's helpless. I pay him a visit every now and then to remind him of the pain he's caused."

He stared at her, suddenly terrified again. "You've been torturing him."

"I've been punishing him," she countered. "Have you read 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner'?"

"Yeah," he answered.

"There's a part in it where the mariner overhears two spirits talking about him:

'"Is it he? quoth one, "Is this the man?  
"By him who died on cross,  
"With his cruel bow he lay'd full low  
"The harmless Albatross.

"The spirit who 'bideth by himself  
"In the land of mist and snow,  
"He lov'd the bird that lov'd the man  
"Who shot him with his bow.

The other was a softer voice,  
As soft as honey-dew:  
Quoth he the man hath penance done,  
And penance more will do.'"

The last time Bruce had read that poem, he'd been in hiding, having cut all ties with his past, focused on not becoming the Hulk. He'd seen parallels in the poem to his own life. "Who do you think is the mariner here?" he asked her.

"Thanos is. Vision is the albatross. I'm the lonely and powerful spirit who will make him pay for that murder. Thanos hath penance done, and penance more will do. He gets to know what it feels like to watch the person he loves most die. Again, and again, and again."

Her hatred was palpable. It seemed to radiate off her.

"Maybe he deserves to be punished," Bruce said carefully. "But what is it doing to you to be the one to punish him? What is it turning you into?"

"It's helping me keep going, giving my life purpose." Then she changed. The look of pure hatred faded away. "At least, it did. It feels different now."

Nat had told him the reason Wanda came back to the Avengers was to protect Vision. She no longer felt as compelled to avenge his death when he was alive again.

"It might be time to...I don't know, move on?" he suggested. "It sounds like you've put Thanos in a good place for him. You shouldn't keep punishing yourself to punish him. He's not worth it."

"I don't know. It seems like it should be worth it." She sounded confused.

"We've undone most of the harm Thanos did. He probably hurt you more than anyone, so it's your choice. It's your choice how much you want him to suffer, how much you want to let making him pay take from your life."

She stared at her mug for a minute, then she looked up at him. "If I can think of a way to get some of Thanos's blood, I'll get it to you. Maybe by studying it you can figure out a way to kill him. That would be good to have, just in case."

"Yeah," Bruce agreed. He wished he could study her, too, try to figure out how her powers worked, how she was able to move between dimensions. But he asking her right now would be pushing his luck.

...

... ... ...

...

After her talk with Dr. Banner, Wanda went outside to think. She flew to the rooftop and watched the snow fall. Maybe Dr. Banner was right. With how dangerous Thanos was, if they could find a way to kill him, they probably should. Her revenge wasn't worth the safety of the universe.

The falling snow tumbled down from the twilight blue-gray sky. It muted the world, blotted out the view of anything beyond the rooftop. It felt peaceful.

She reached out. Her fingers danced. She picked out one single snowflake from the thousands floating in the air. She caught it, stilled it, turned it, felt the pattern of the crystalline structures making up the individual flakes. She took another one, and a few more. She lined them up in the air, arranged them in different shapes, then clumped them together into a snowball.

She let it fall, letting her power unfocus. She suddenly became aware of a presence beside her. She turned, finding Vision there.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," he said.

She stared at him, feeling suddenly weak. "Okay."

"This display of your power is truly mesmerizing."

"Thank you." She felt like an idiot for not being able to think of anything better to say.

"Is it more difficult to manipulate something small than something large?" he asked.

"It can be. It's more challenging to focus on a single snowflake than a larger object. Manipulating several small objects at the same time is even more of a challenge. Control is harder than chaos. Breaking something is easier than fixing something."

"So you're challenging yourself? Exercizing your abilities?"

"Yes." She couldn't take her eyes away from him. She simultaneously didn't want him to leave and feared he would come closer.

"You are so powerful already, how much more powerful do you wish to become?"

"As powerful as I can become," she answered honestly, wanting to explain. "Because there are threats like Thanos in the universe, maybe worse. I've seen enough to know they will come whether we're ready for them or not. And if they attack and we aren't strong enough to stop them, they will win. So I will become as powerful as I possibly can. And if that makes people fear me, if that makes people think _I'm_ a threat...that's the price I will pay for the strength to protect the people I care about."

He couldn't possibly guess she meant him especially, she thought.

"That sounds like a heavy price to pay."

He was staring at her with an intensity that reminded her of his old self. She felt like her skin was crawling and her insides were tying themselves up in knots. "It is," was all she could think to say.

"Perhaps it's too high a price."

His face, dark and soft in the gloaming, framed by falling snow...she thought it might be the most beautiful image she'd ever seen. She didn't trust herself to speak another word.

"Don't stay out here too long. It's growing colder." He phased through the roof, and she was alone again.

Was he right? Was Dr. Banner right? Was she destroying herself in her quest to avenge and protect her friends?

She contemplated it. Her Vision wouldn't want her to focus on revenge; he would want her to move on and be happy. But her Vision was gone, because she hadn't been strong enough to save him. She couldn't let that happen again, no matter what it cost her.

After a few more minutes, she followed Vision's advice and went inside. She'd left her phone in her room, and had missed a message from Nat.

 _How soon can you be in Chicago? I need your help._


	21. If

Chapter 21: If

Eros the melter of limbs (now again) stirs me—  
sweetbitter unmanageable creature who steals in

~Sappho, from _If Not, Winter,_ trans. Anne Carson

If anyone had been in the room, they would have seen tendrils of red light suddenly appear in the air and slowly spread out in a sphere until it filled the room, lightly zapping the walls. At the center of the sphere, red light outlined two human figures. Then the light faded away, leaving Wanda and Nat in its place.

Wanda formed a glowing sphere in her hands to illuminate the room, a bank vault lined with safes.

"I'm just saying you should have _tried_ asking me first," Wanda said.

Wanda had been angry about Nat's deception, but not nearly as upset as she thought she'd be. She seemed to have something else on her mind.

Nat looked over the numbers on the safes. "And if I had and you still didn't tell me, you'd be on the lookout for me trying to get the information out of you and I'd lose my chance."

"I would have told you."

"I'm not sure you would have." She found the safe she was looking for. "Could I get some light over here? It's going to take a minute to pick the lock."

"Here, let me." Wanda sent a thread of scarlet to the lock. In seconds, it turned, and she pulled the safe open.

"You are useful to have around," Nat commented. She pulled out a lockbox, leather gloves preventing her from leaving fingerprints. "So you've seriously never broken into a bank before?"

"It's not that I haven't considered it, but I never had a need." She used her power to unlock the lockbox.

Nat slid the lid off. Inside was a stack of cash, a collection of receipts, and a black leather notebook. She photographed the receipts, then flipped through the book, photographing each page with writing on it. Just skimming she'd seen enough to convince her that her hunch was right: Olson Carroll had built the spiderbots. With nothing but her own hunch to go on, there was no way she could have gotten this evidence through legal channels. And short of the murders and explosions her past self might have used to obtain this information, she wasn't sure if she could have obtained this evidence through _illegal_ means without Wanda's help. Not without weeks of preparation, anyway.

Nat flipped through the book one last time to make sure she hadn't missed anything, then replaced everything exactly as it had been before. "Lock it up. We've got what we need."

With a few twists of her fingers, Wanda sealed the lockbox and secured it in the safe. "Anything else?"

"Nope. Let's get out of here."

Wanda took them to an Earth without sentient life, which she used for hiding out and traveling.

"We'll need to wait here a while to make sure we're out of the city before going back," Wanda said. "I hope what you found in there can wait a few hours."

"I hope so. It will take me a while to even figure out what I've got."

Wanda nodded. She didn't say anything while Nat looked through the photographs she'd taken.

The quiet grew heavy.

"Are you distracted, or are you just giving me the silent treatment?" Nat asked.

Wanda jolted slightly, startled out of the thoughts she'd been lost in. "Sorry." She smiled apologetically. "It's not you."

"What's on your mind?"

"Nothing really. It's stupid."

"What is it?" Nat pressed.

"Vision said something nice to me. I don't even know if he meant it to be nice, but I can't stop thinking about it. I'm being an idiot. I know he hates and fears me, but just a kind word from him leaves me dizzy."

"I don't think he hates you."

"He hates the things I've done. I feel it whenever I let myself read him. It's crazy, when I talk to him I turn to jelly. It's extremely unpleasant. But I keep thinking up reasons to talk to him. I never do, but I want to."

Nat didn't know what advice to give. She didn't know if Wanda talking to Vision, perhaps telling him her real feelings, would be a good idea or a terrible idea. The situation put both of them in a tenuous spot.

"I know what you're thinking," Wanda said. "I'm being an idiot. I need to just act like a grown up and move on."

"That's not what I was thinking," she said. "I was thinking this sucks for you, and I'm sorry."

She nodded. "Thanks."

...

... ... ...

...

Nat stood at the head of the conference table.

"I've got good news and bad news," she began. "The good news is we know who's behind the spiderbots." She brought up a photograph of a middle-aged man with shaggy, sandy hair and large gray eyes. "This is Olson Carroll, millionaire software developer and noted trans-humanist philosopher."

"Which means?" Steve asked tentatively.

"He believes the goal of humanity should be eventually transferring our consciousnesses to computer programs. He's also argued that in the immediate future we should construct a supercomputer to serve as a fourth branch of government, using computer logic as a check on human irrationality in laws and government policies. Given his background, when I found out he was in Green Bay, Wisconsin around the time of the warehouse fire that covered up evidence of the spiderbots' construction, I decided to take a closer look at him. That eventually led me to get my hands on some of his private documents." She brought up photographs of pertinent receipts and notes from his book. "That brings us to the bad news: not only has he successfully duplicated the battery he stole from Stark, he's been in contact with a revolutionary group called the Cobra Conspiratorium, which Steve, Sam, Wanda, and I had the misfortune of crossing paths with when we were on the run. They have Chitauri anti-gravity tech in their possession. If Carroll gets his hands on that technology, or sells his robots to the Conspiratorium, it's a problem."

"But now that we know who he is, we can arrest him," Sam said.

"Not that easy. For one thing, we don't have enough legal evidence to convict him. For another thing, his current location is unknown. Other than his occasional unscheduled public speeches, he communicates remotely. He's become increasingly elusive over the past few months."

"I got the feeling you'll be able to track him down," Tony said.

"Eventually, but we've got a more immediate issue. Carroll wants to build more bots. He needs more raw materials, specifically some rare-earth metals for the electronic components of his bots. Judging by his notes, he's interested in robbing a metal refinery near Kinshasa. There's a large shipment scheduled to move out from there next Wednesday. If I were him, I'd hit it the night before the shipment."

"We'd need U.N. authorization for an international operation," Tony reminded them.

"You think you'll have a problem selling it?" Nat asked. "All you'd have to tell them is we think it might be robbed by flying robots. It's far enough from population centers that a fight there won't pose a risk to the public. I doubt they'll care about the details."

Tony nodded. "I'll see if I can get it authorized in time."

"And in the meantime, let's step up our training," Steve said. "If Nat's right, we could be facing a lot of killer robots. Let's make sure we're ready for them."

...

... ... ...

...

Vision frowned at the knock on his door. Who would be paying him a visit this late?

He was surprised to find Wanda in the hall. They'd seen each other at training a few hours before, but due to her discomfort around him she didn't seek out encounters with him.

"Ms. Maximoff. Can I help you?"

"No. I..." She looked down. She was holding a small book. "I found this. It's a book of poetry you loaned to me, before... It belongs to you. I want to give it back." She held it out to him, her hands visibly shaking.

"Keep it," he said to her generously.

"No. I want you to have it. I've read it. You should read it. It's yours, and you should have it."

It seemed so important to her. He took the book. "Thank you. I'll let you know when I read it."

"Don't let me know. Read it, but don't tell me. You used to love those poems, and if you don't anymore, I don't know if I..." She bit her lip, took a step back. "Goodnight." She left. Fled, really.

It was baffling to him that someone so powerful could become so flustered from his mere proximity.

He'd been studying the records of her rogue psychic attacks. They were all directed against people who had committed horrible crimes, and while he still thought her methods were unconscionable, he was starting to consider he'd been judging her too harshly. But what was clear from her record was that she was bold, strong, and resolute. And yet she was reduced to trembling just from speaking with him. He didn't know what to make of her. He knew love could have a profound physiological effect on humans, but that didn't seem enough to explain her reaction to him. Perhaps it was the fact that she had to deal with his death, and now had to deal with him being alive. It had to be strange.

Perhaps it was that when she looked at him she couldn't decide whether the Vision she'd known and loved was dead or alive.

He wasn't sure either.


	22. Collaboration

Chapter 22: Collaboration

Ten thousand miles you came to the east—  
will you ever come again?  
The rest of my life I'll be gazing west—  
such will be my constant feelings.

~Ono no Takamura, Wakan Roei Shu 635, from _Japanese and Chinese Poems to Sing,_

trans. J. Thomas Rimer, Jonathan Chavez, Jinishi Konishi, Ann Yonemura

The night that Nat had determined the burglary was most likely to happen, the Avengers replaced the regular night guards at the metal refinery.

Vision was on the rooftop. Steve was in the loading bay, where trucks were already loaded for transport. Nat was in a security office, keeping an eye on the entire building. The rest of the team were keeping watch at the perimeters of the building, with the exception of Bruce, who thought it prudent to wait in the cloaked Quinjet and join them only if it seemed necessary for the Hulk to fight, a so-called "code green."

They'd been there over three hours already. It had been quiet, aside from the occasional quip from Tony, Sam, or Nat over the comms.

The attack came suddenly.

 _"We've got spiderbots incoming on the south side,"_ Rhodes said. _  
_

 _"A bunch of bots are flying in from the east,"_ Tony said. " _Looks like they're breaking out the big guns this time."_

 _"My quadrant's clear,"_ Sam reported.

" _Mine too_ ," said Wanda.

 _"Okay. I'm gonna need backup here,_ " said Rhodes.

 _"I'm on my way,"_ Wanda replied.

Vision rose into the air to get an overview of the fight. The spiderbots were coming from the forested hills behind the refinery. He counted 26 so far. Most of them were the same size as the bots they'd fought before, but one was much larger, about ten feet off the ground on its four legs. That one couldn't fly; it was trying to climb toward the refinery as Tony blasted it while simultaneously fending off airborn bots.

Vision flew to his aid, blasting the bots with energy beams from the Mind Stone, aiming for the central nodes that housed their power source.

"I am assisting Mr. Stark," he reported over the comm. "Falcon, please assist War Machine and the Scarlet Witch."

" _On it_ ," Sam replied.

The giant spiderbot made it to the wall of the refinery and started punching its way in.

"Cover me!" Tony shouted as he dove to physically stop the giant spiderbot. He grappled with it, cut a hole in the top of its body, and fired inside. The spiderbot ignored him, focusing on its task of making a hole in the wall.

Two of the flying spiderbots began buzzing around Vision, dodging his blasts while trying to get behind him. An opening appeared in the central node of one, and bullets shot out. Vision phased to let the bullets go through him. The bot had stilled long enough for him to take it out.

Most of the other bots, he noticed, were retreating. All but one, which flew out of the woods high into the air, then hovered over the building. Vision kept an eye on it, flyng in a zig-zag pattern to keep out of the reach of the remaining bot circling him. The new bot looked slightly different from the others, its central node was a sphere, rather than a disk. It was designed for a special purpose.

Vision didn't figure out what that purpose was until it exploded in a bright flash, and he blacked out.

He regained consciousness just as he slammed into the ground. The spiderbot he'd been fighting fell next to him, its pieces scattering without its power source to electromagnetically hold it together.

He heard Tony swear sharply, but not over the comm.

"Electromagnetic pulse," Vision said.

"Yeah. Wasn't expecting that," Tony said. "My suit's out." He took off his armor piece by piece. The giant spiderbot lay next to him, inert.

"The attack took out their own resources along with ours," Vision noted. He sprang up, realization dawning. "...to prepare for a second wave."

The spiderbots he'd seen retreating before—to get out of range of the EMP—now rushed back, flying past Tony to invade the building through the hole the giant spiderbot made. Vision took out five, but several got in.

"Go! Help Cap!" Tony said.

Vision phased through the wall into the loading bay, finding Steve valiantly fighting eight spiderbots at once. They were all attacking him, pooling their strength to take out the threat before continuing on their task of stealing the metal. One spiderbot fired bullets, which Steve blocked with his shield, which left him open to attack from behind.

Vision rushed in, tossing three aside and blasting another before it could fire at Steve.

Steve threw his shield, smashing through the one in front of him.

"Thanks."

"Of course, Captain."

"Watch out!"

Vision dodged out of the way just as a bot fired two wires toward him. The wires hit the floor, before being quickly retracted. The bot fired again, this time aiming at Steve. He raised his shield to block it.

"Throw it!" Vision shouted.

He did, but not quite soon enough to keep a jolt of electricity from zapping through him.

"Ugh!" He rolled backward, grasping his arm. His shield flew into the bot, hurling it into the wall, smashing it to bits.

Vision flew to Steve. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." He jumped to his feet. "Behind you."

Vision spun around, blasting a bot just about to stab at him.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

He retrieved his shield.

When nothing attacked them for a few seconds, Vision flew up to get an overview. The surviving bots were leaving, flying out a broken upper window.

"They're retreating?" Steve asked.

"I don't believe so." Vision's mind quickly reviewed the impressions he'd gotten so far of the spiderbots' strategy: sacrificing their own in the EMP to take out their mechanically enhanced fighters and their comm system, attacking Steve together instead of trying to keep him occupied with a couple of attackers, which would have allowed the others to steal at least some of the valuable ingots. In their first altercation on the train, the bots had ignored the incapacitated War Machine to attack him. "They're going after the greatest threat first. Wanda."

...

... ... ...

...

Wanda felt like for each bot she destroyed, two more would appear. They'd shot at her with bullets, which she'd blocked with a shield of energy. They'd shot at her with electrified wires, which she'd redirected to electrify each other. They'd tried spraying her with some kind of poisoned gas, which she'd sucked into a whirlwind and disbursed into the sky. They'd tried surrounding her, tried synchronizing their attacks to buffet her from all sides. She'd made a ball of energy around herself and flipped it outward to crush the surrounding bots all at once. She grabbed bots out of the air, crumpled them into small balls of metal and dropping them to the ground.

These spiderbots were flimsier than Ultron's forms. And her power was much stronger and more controlled than it had been when she'd fought Ultron. But they kept coming; she wasn't sure how long she could keep up.

There were at this moment twenty or so darting around in zigzag flight paths, simultaneously dodging and trying to surround her.

She saw Vision phase through the wall. She pivoted toward him.

"Vision, look out!" She destroyed the two bots nearest to him.

He flew toward her. "Duck!"

She did, and he blasted a bot that had taken advantage of her distraction to launch at her from behind.

Vision landed behind her, taking up a post. They stood back-to-back, facing the remaining bots.

"Thanks," Wanda said.

"Sam and Rhodes?"

"They're safe," she answered. When they began to fall after the EMP, she had levitated them out of the air and moved them to a secluded spot before facing the second wave of bots.

"Good." A bot fired at him. He remained solid, letting the bullets smash harmlessly against his vibranium skin before blasting the bot.

Wanda scooped three flying bots into a sphere and crushed them together. "These things just keep coming."

"They're focusing their attack on you. They've identified you as the greatest threat."

"I'm flattered."

In about two minutes, the last of the bots fell. Wanda and Vision remained poised for a moment, waiting for another attack. None came.

Wanda turned toward Vision, realizing just how close he was. She suddenly felt shy. "Thanks. That was good timing."

There was that familiar burning intensity in his unwavering gaze. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She self-consciously brushed a loose clump of hair behind her ear. "What about you? Are you okay? Are...are the others okay?"

He nodded. "When I left Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers, they were unharmed."

Sam came up to them. "That was amazing! I wish I'd gotten that on video."

Wanda was grateful for the interruption. She turned away from Vision. "How's Rhodey?"

"He's fine, thanks to you. You saved our lives back there."

"I think that's been going around," Wanda said, flicking her eyes at Vision.

Sam caught the look and smiled teasingly. "You two make a great team."

Wanda considered punching him in the arm for that insinuation, but restrained herself, not wanting to raise Vision's suspicions.

"It seems we do," Vision agreed.

Wanda suddenly became aware that her heart was pounding hard. She wasn't sure if it was a lingering consequence of the heated battle she'd just been in or a result of Vision's comment.

She braced herself and turned to face him. They had a job to do. "Come on; we should make sure the building is clear and everyone's safe."

He nodded.

They found the broken remnants of 46 spiderbots in total. Tony wanted to gather every piece, both to study them and to keep them out of anyone else's hands. They also had to document everything for the UN Sokovia Accords Oversight Committee.

By the time they were finally on the Quinjet heading home, Wanda was exhausted. Too exhausted to fight the temptation to steal glances at Vision.

He was across the plane, seated next to Tony and Bruce. They'd worked well together, all things considered. She'd been focused enough on the tasks at hand to keep from falling apart around him, and he seemed to at least no longer consider her an unstable madwoman.

Her feelings for him were never going to change, but she could handle them. She could hide them. They could work together.

He glanced toward her, and she quickly averted her eyes, hoping he hadn't noticed.


	23. Memento

Chapter 23: Memento

Out in the marsh reeds  
A bird cries out in sorrow,  
As though it had recalled  
Something better forgotten.

~Ki no Tsurayuki (?), trans. Kenneth Rexroth, _One Hundred Poems from the Japanese_

He came across her in the lounge shortly after midnight. She was drinking a cup of tea, from the mug he'd given her.

She stilled at the sight of him.

He hesitated for a moment. He'd resolved that he would speak with her, but had expected it to be tomorrow, not tonight.

"Hello," she said quietly.

"You're up late, Miss Maximoff."

"I have trouble sleeping sometimes."

He went to her slowly, suppressing his nervousness, and sat on the couch across from her. "I have been meaning to speak with you."

"What about?"

"The spiderbots," Vision said. "Something about their strategy doesn't make sense to me."

"And you think I can help? Nat or Rhodey would know more about that kind of thing."

"But you knew Ultron."

She looked startled, and tilted her head quizzically. "What about him?"

He noted with interest that she'd called the intelligent robot 'him' instead of 'it'.

"Ultron was a highly intelligent being in control of hundreds of robotic bodies, which he directed as a united front. The spiderbots would seem to have very similar advantages, and yet they do not behave in the same way. Ultron employed misdirection and distraction in his attacks. He used you and your brother to coordinate with his robotic forms to acquire the materials he needed. The spiderbots might have had contingents attack each of us while another contingent completed the theft, but instead they attacked us in mass, even when it became clear the attack would destroy them without gaining them their objective. What strategic reasoning might have led them to that course of action? I feel they had a reason, that it was neither random nor incompetent, and perhaps understanding Ultron might give some insight."

She shook her head. "I don't know. I did what Ultron told me; I didn't ask him to explain his plans. You might understand him better than I do. Parts of your mind you inherited from him."

"But without those memories, I don't know what parts of my mind those are. Perhaps if you tell me your memories of him...?"

She looked down, bit her lip. Without looking at him, she said, "I could do better than that."

"What do you mean?"

"I could show you those memories. Put them in your head. It would actually be easier; I do that kind of thing all the time. But it's up to you. If you don't want to, I understand. It would be putting a lot of trust in me."

He got the feeling she didn't believe he would take her up on it. She thought he feared her too much. She didn't understand how tempting the offer was, how frustrated he'd been by having most of his life a blank, how long he'd stared at old photographs and read old reports trying to remember _anything_ from the life he had before waking up in Shuri's lab in Wakanda.

"Do it," he said.

She looked at him sharply, her eyes wide with surprise and doubts.

"I want my memories back," he said. "Whatever of them you can give me."

"Are you sure? I couldn't give you much. It would be just the side of events I saw, and my memories aren't perfect. But if you want to understand Ultron, it might help."

"I'm sure," he said. "What do we have to do?"

She drank the remainder of her tea in one gulp and set her cup down on the table, then turned toward him, kneeling on the couch. "Come here."

He faced her. She raised her hand slowly, her fingers poised. She paused just above his forehead. He closed his eyes.

"I'm ready."

He felt her energy flicker at his mind. She entered him gently. He could imagine how terrifying this experience was for the people she attacked like this, but she seemed to be being careful with him. He sensed the presence in his mind was questioning, hesitant, ready to retreat at any sign of distress.

An image bloomed in his mind. More than an image; an experience. Wanda and Pietro walking into an ancient cathedral. He could feel her fear, her curiosity. He could smell the odors of dust and dampness permeating the old building.

She didn't know who had asked them to this secret meeting, or why, but she had a feeling it had something to do with the vision she'd given Tony Stark.

"Talk," she said to the figure she could just make out in the gloom. "And if you're wasting our time..."

Ultron's first words to her were about the cathedral, about God. Wanda was startled, and confused.

"You're wondering why you can't see inside my head," he noted.

"Sometimes it's hard," she said. "But sooner or later every man shows himself."

He stood and turned toward them, revealing himself as a towering robot. "Oh, I'm sure they do. But you needed something more than a man."

She was frightened, but not terrified. She'd lived through and created too much terror for this to make her run. She was mostly impressed and intrigued. This was a potential ally in her war against Stark.

Pietro said nothing at first. He trailed behind them as Ultron led them to the HYDRA base in the old fortress. Ultron was using the leftover machinery to build more of himself.

When Pietro started telling the story of the bombing, she wanted to stop him. She wanted to impress Ultron, wanted him to see them as strong and powerful, not as lost children. But Ultron showed only sympathy for their past trauma, empathizing with their need for revenge. Already Wanda was growing fond of him. His philosophical musings, his melodious voice. Even his tall, metal, skelatal physique didn't seem frightening after a time. He was strong and intimidating and driven, and that was what she wanted in an ally. When he reached for her, almost touching her face with his cold metal fingers, she didn't flinch.

"You and I can hurt them," he said to Pietro before looking at her. "But you will tear them apart from the inside."

She wanted nothing more.

Wanda showed Vision the attacks they made, the thefts they pulled off to get materials for Ultron's army, culminating in their trip to buy vibranium from the soon-to-be one-armed arms dealer Ullyses Klaue. Her psychic attacks on Thor, Nat, Steve, and finally Bruce. He felt the excruciating pain of Clint's electrified arrow to her forehead.

She showed him himself, being slowly grown in Dr. Cho's cradle. He felt Wanda's fascination and wonder as she looked on him.

"I can read him. He's dreaming."

He saw Ultron's plan, felt her revulsion, her sense of being manipulated and betrayed, her guilt and horror at her part in this, that her quest to destroy Stark had led unintentionally to a sequence of events that might end in global extinction.

She freed Dr. Cho of the Scepter's control, and then she fled. Pietro followed.

They didn't know what to do next. They didn't know where to go. They were lost. In truth, they had always been nothing but lost children.

They helped Captain America. They saved lives. And when she learned Ultron's perfect, vibranium form was on its way to Stark, she knew he would try to bring it to life, bring Ultron's vision of global destruction to life, in an unstoppable physical incarnation.

She tried to stop it.

He saw the confrontation leading up to his birth, Tony, Bruce, and Clint fighting to allow him to be born, while Wanda, Pietro, and Steve tried to stop them. Then Thor. Thor's bolt of lightning providing the deciding vote on his life. He felt Wanda's terror and awe as she watched him burst out of the cradle, fly past Thor, and stare out the window, gazing at the city lights with his newborn eyes.

And then there was a flash of something else, something intrusive. Daylight. Trees. His face. Red. Horror. Terror. Anguish. Unbearable pain.

She tore away from him.

He was disoriented as the memories gave way in an instant to the familiar surroundings of the lounge in the Avenger compound. Wanda turned away from him, she pushed herself off the couch, stumbling.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," she muttered.

He was confused by the flash of pain. It had an intensity that felt physical.

"Are you hurt?" he asked her. "Did that hurt you?"

"No. I'm fine." She wouldn't look at him. She was hiding her face from him. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

She stumbled out the door. He rose, unsure if he should follow her, if he should make sure she was alright. He decided against it. Not knowing what was wrong, he was afraid he might make it worse.

His mind was still swirling with her memories, with the sensations and emotions he'd experienced, which he felt as distinctly as if the were his own. The memories, as she'd cautioned him, weren't perfect. There were gaps, places where details were fuzzy. Times of fear were the most vivid. He wondered if there had been parts of the memories she was keeping from him, though she'd made no attempt to hide the visciousness and vindictiveness of her past self, her culpability in Ultron's crimes, the guilt she now felt over it, her regret over trying to prevent his own birth.

He went over the events of his birth again and again, wishing he could have seen more. He could easily imagine his own feelings then, the disorientation and the joy of suddenly springing into the world, the mingled influences of memories from Ultron and JARVIS and the imprints of more ancient things in his mind. His amazement staring out the window at the city lights, and then at his own face reflected in the glass...

Then it dawned on him: that wasn't his imagination, it was a memory.

His own.


	24. Deja Vu

Chapter 24: Deja Vu

Last night it rained and the pomegranates all bloomed.  
I hang a crystal curtain on the banks of the lotus pond.  
And yet how could I forget this sorrow I feel for my love?

~Shin Hum, from _Love in Mid-Winter: Korean Sijo Poetry,_  
trans. Chung Chong-wha

Wanda had really believed she could share her memories with Vision without a problem. After all, she'd used modified samples of her own memories for the waken nightmares she implanted in the heads of Thanos and other villains. She could usually control exactly what she wanted them to see.

She'd known she had PTSD from the day of Thanos's attack, and knew flashbacks were a symptom, but hadn't anticipated that conjuring the memory of Vision's birth would trigger a flashback to the moment of his death.

She knew she'd see him sometime the next day. Since they'd stopped actively avoiding each other, they saw each other almost daily.

They didn't say anything to each other during training, but afterward, when everyone else went off for a shower or meal, he intercepted her before she could leave.

"I was worried about you last night," he said.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know that would happen."

"It's alright," he said with what looked like a real smile. "But I didn't get the chance to thank you. You have no idea what those memories mean to me. I'm sorry it caused you pain."

The sight of his smile tore through her, but the moment it was gone she instantly missed it. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry my memories can't be more pleasant. I wish I could give you more."

"So do I," he said wistfully. "But I wouldn't ask you to endure that again."

She was torn. She wanted to help him so badly. He deserved to have his memories back.

"It might not happen again," she said. Now that she knew to expect it, she might be able to guard against it. It was a risk, of course. She didn't want Vision to suffer the pain of that moment. And she couldn't let him pick up on how much she loved him; he might decide he couldn't work with her, and she might never see him again.

And if he knew she'd been the one who killed him, what would he do? How would he feel? He was just beginning to trust her, just beginning to speak to her. She couldn't risk losing that.

But he looked so hopeful at her suggestion. "Are you sure? I don't want to do it if it causes you any pain or distress."

As much as she feared the risks, she wanted the nearness and intimacy of sharing her memories with him. She craved it. "Let's try again," she said. "I'll be more careful this time."

He hesitated, then nodded.

"Come to my room in half an hour."

"Alright," he agreed.

She needed somewhere comfortable, somewhere she felt safe. But after walking away, she wondered if her subconscious mind had an ulterior motive for inviting him to her bedroom.

"Stop it," she told herself under her breath.

She meditated—Sam had taught her how while they were on the run to help her gain greater control of her emotions and powers—attempting to clear and calm her mind so she'd be ready to focus. She sensed Vision's presence right before he phased through her wall. She had to smile.

"It is traditional to knock," she said.

"Oh. I'm so sorry. I knew that, but I just thought...you'd been expecting me, and I..."

"It's okay." She chuckled. "Are you ready?"

He joined her, sitting in front of her on the bed.

"I'm going to give you my memories of the Battle of Sokovia, when the Avengers defeated Ultron. I lost my brother in that battle, so this is going to hurt, and I'm sorry, but if you want to see Ultron in action this is the best I can give you."

He nodded resolutely. "Do it. Please."

She raised her hand toward him. Her fingers plucked the ether until she caught the threads of his mind. She connected to him.

Her memories of the flight from New York to Sokovia were indistinct. The Avengers discussed strategies and plans, including her as an inside expert on Ultron, though it was clear they didn't trust her. She didn't fully trust them, either. She was working with people she had regarded as her enemies in order to stop an even worse threat, one she had created.

In Sokovia, Dr. Banner left to find Natasha. The rest of them started the evacuation of the city and prepared to face Ultron.

She didn't try to hide anything from Vision: her fear, her cowardice, Clint's pep talk convincing her to rejoin the fight. She volunteered to guard the core. "It's my job." She'd caused Ultron; it was her responsibility to stop him.

Her memories of that battle were sharp but fractured, and soaked through with the sorrow of Pietro's death. Pietro's death—she avoided that memory. It flashed through her mind and she pulled away from it, fearing that memory would remind her of Vision's death. Her mind turned instead to the fight, the fear, using her power to grab Ultron's forms and toss them aside or tear them apart.

It reminded her of another fight, another city. Fleeing Thanos's followers through the dark streets of Edinburgh.

No. Not that.

She pulled her memory back to Sokovia. Out of her mind with grief and a thirst for vengeance, she abandonded her post, putting the world at risk in order to hurt the person who killed Pietro.

"Wanda. If you stay here, you'll die."

He was helpless, injured, not an immediate threat, least of all to her. She murdered him. Two people who loved her had died that day, one at the hands of the other, the other at her own hands. She murdered Ultron: there was nothing else to call it.

The city began to fall. It was her fault, but she hadn't realized that at the time. All she knew at the time was that she was about to die. And then there were arms around her. His crimson face. Ernest, gentle.

 _His face as his eyes fixed on her in the train station in Edinburgh. His hand on her cheek. "Please leave. Please."  
_

She pulled away from him. Not with the abruptness of the last time; she took a few seconds to bring the memories to a close and gently disentangle her mind from his. He opened his eyes to look at her. She realized her face was soaked with tears, and that he'd already seen it. It wasn't just the sadness the memories brought back, it was guilt and shame. Any normal human would hate and fear her for the things she'd done, but Vision—with his superhuman capacity for forgiveness and compassion—only looked at her, nothing but sympathy and kindness in his eyes.

Only Vision could love her, knowing what she was. But she killed the people who loved her. It was a pattern.

"Thank you for trying again," he said. "Thank you for these memories."

"They're yours, and you should have them. But I think I want you to go now," she said.

He nodded, but looked uncertain. He began to move away before pausing. "It wasn't your fault, Wanda. You did not create Ultron, you didn't kill your brother, and no one would blame you for how you reacted. We couldn't risk letting Ultron get away. You saved the world."

His words brought a stab of guilt and a rush of fresh tears, because she didn't believe him.

"Please just go."

He phased through the wall, leaving her alone.

She lay on her bed and buried her face in her pillow. Maybe she should leave, she considered. Maybe she was endangering Vision more than protecting him.

...

... ... ...

...

Vision wished he'd been able to think of some way to comfort Wanda. Perhaps he should have told her the truth, that the memories she was sharing with him, or perhaps her energy flowing through his brain, were connecting him to his own memories. He hadn't told her because he didn't want to pressure her into sharing her memories if it was too hard for her, or too painful.

He wouldn't ask her again, he decided. He wasn't going to put her through that again. These memories were all he would get.

He went over the memories of the battle again and again. Each time, there was something new. His own memories were crystalizing around hers.

He remembered facing Ultron.

 _"My vision. They really have taken everything from me."_

Fighting alongside Thor. Wielding Thor's hammer. Making a stand with the other Avengers against hundreds of attacking robots, protecting the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier and helping the evacuation. When all the civilians were safe, he went looking for Wanda. He saw her, falling with the falling city. He flew to her.

She was so sure he would condemn her for her past mistakes—for joining Ultron, for turning her powers against the Avengers, for abandoning her post after her brother was killed, even for killing Ultron—but didn't attempt to conceal any of it from him. She showed him that she believed she'd murdered Ultron while holding back the mitigating circumstance of Pietro's death. She gave him memories she believed would make him despise her. Even though she loved him, she made no attempt to hide her worst flaws from him.

He had caught her feelings for him in the flashes of the fight she'd attempted to keep from him, as they fled from alien attackers through dark streets. He contemplated those memories now, went over them, trying to remember it from his own perspective. He remembered things about that night Wanda did not. He remembered the clothes they were wearing, the weather, that it was a Monday.

He remembered pain. In his gut, in his head.

 _"Give up the Stone and she lives."_

That was an offer he would have accepted, not knowing what they wanted it for.

 _"Please. Please leave."_ He was begging her to save herself.

 _"You asked me to stay. I'm staying."_

He was left trembling with the memory of mortal terror—not for himself, but for her.

...

... ... ...

...

 _"All Avengers, assemble in the conference room."_

Vision had been in the training room alone, practicing moderating the intensity of the energy beam from his forehead on sensors of various sizes placed across the room. At the summons, he went directly to the conference room, phasing through several walls. He was one of the first to arrive.

"Do you know what this is about?" Rhodes asked him.

"No."

"New developments about the spiderbots," Bruce said, overhearing as he walked in.

"Have we discovered the location of Mr. Carroll?" Vision asked.

"I don't think we should expect any good news."

Wanda entered about a minute after. Vision examined her closely. It had been three days since she'd given him her memories of the battle with Ultron, and he hadn't seen her since. He wanted to know if she was alright.

She didn't look in his direction as she picked a chair almost at the opposite end of the table. She kept her face turned away from him.

Sam was the last to arrive. Nat and Steve stood at the front of the room. Tony and King T'Challa joined them via hologram.

"By stopping the spiderbots from robbing the refinery in Kinshasa, we tipped our hand," Nat began. "Olson Carroll has apparently reacted by stepping up his game. Two nights ago, there was a rash of thefts of rare-earth metals and electronic components committed by miniature spiderbots. There are also reports coming in about missing scientists. Those reported missing so far are software engineer Eugenio Trujillo, NASA roboticist Rulon Alderman, aerospace engineer Orvokki Jarvinen, chemical engineer Sultana Al-Hashim, hardware developer Bryan West, and physicist Lei Bosen. Spiderbots were reported in the vicinity of some of these disappearances. If they are related, given the specialties of these scientists, it looks like Olsen Carroll is working on new and improved spiderbots with the most advanced A.I. the world has seen since Ultron."

Vision wondered briefly if she was counting him as artificial intelligence.

T'Challa added to the presentation. "Wakanda's intelligence network has confirmed that Olsen Carroll made a deal with the Cobra Conspiratorium, exchanging Chitauri anti-gravity technology and raw materials for a hundred completed spiderbots. At this point, we don't know for sure whether it is Carroll or the Conspiratorium behind these kidnappings."

"But given that we know Carroll is actively constructing new spiderbots, and as far as we know the Cobra Conspiratorium aren't, I'd say it's most likely him," Nat said.

"Either way," Steve said, "our priority now is to find the kidnapped scientists, and make sure they don't get hold of anyone else."

"I've been putting together a list of other possible targets," Tony said. "We'll get security on them."

"Do any of the missing scientists have families?" Wanda asked.

"Yeah. Most of them do," Nat answered.

"Were any of them harmed?"

"No. Most of the scientists disappeared going to or from work, or when they were home alone. There were no eyewitnesses."

"It's possible the scientists' families are being monitored or kept under some kind of threat to get the scientists to cooperate. We might want to check on them, make sure they're safe."

"We'll look into that," Nat said, sounding intrigued.

It was interesting that Wanda's first thought would not be for the abducted scientists, but for their loved ones, Vision mused.

"If we move their families to a safehouse, or otherwise reveal our involvement, it may lead the scientists to resist, which may put their lives in danger," Vision pointed out. "We should proceed with caution and discretion."

Wanda frowned slightly. It didn't look like she disagreed with him, but that she hadn't thought of that and it concerned her. She still kept her eyes fixed straight ahead at Nat. She didn't even flick her eyes toward him.

He suddenly realized he no longer felt fear when he looked at her. It wasn't that he didn't keep in mind how dangerous she was, but that it no longer concerned him. His fear had given way to a kind of fascination. He felt strangely drawn to her. She was remarkable; imbued with unfathomable cosmic power, and yet so human. Even believing the good she could do could never counteract the harm she had caused, she strived to do what she believed was right anyway, even if it came at great personal cost. She made no attempt to conceal or excuse her past wrongs, even though she believed it would lower her in the opinion of the one she loved.

She was wrong in that. He didn't care about her real or perceived past crimes. They didn't inspire either blame or fear.

He just wanted her to look at him again.


	25. Conflicted

Chapter 25: Conflicted

I was of three minds,  
Like a tree  
In which there are three blackbirds.

~Wallace Stevens, from "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird"

 _"We tell ourselves stories about the worst possible scenario and then mistake them for the only possible scenario. The truth is, we are the worst possible scenario. We assume artificial intelligence will try to take over and try to destroy us for the simple reason that we assume artificial intelligence will think and behave like we do. It won't."  
_

Bruce was watching a recording of a talk Olson Carroll had given at a technology symposium six years ago. Carroll was animated, passionate, and persuasive.

 _"All we have on what dangers A.I. could present are fictional—unfounded conjecture. For what we have on the dangers of human intelligence, pick up any history book. Wars, slavery, ecological devastation. Objectively, we shouldn't trust ourselved to run the world. Not when we have a viable alternative."_

This talk was a couple of years before Ultron. Apparently, Carroll had toned down his rhetoric after that without actually backing down from his positions.

 _"And we do have an alternative. War, hate, jealousy, tribalism, dehumanization, prejudice—these are all artifacts of human nature that are counter-productive, often fatal, and possibly extinction-level suicidal in today's world, and which we can leave behind by augmenting our own intelligence with computers. Eventually, we will be able to transfer our consciousnesses to new, perfectly designed bodies, keeping all that's good about human nature and leaving behind all that's harmful. Anyone who would cling to these defects, say we need our flaws to make us human, is simply afraid of the unknown. The truth is, humans have been augmenting our own nature since we first made clothes from treebark, since we first decided to give up some of our own selfish desires for the good of the group. And we are already using computers to enhance ourselves. I'm not just talking about Iron Man or hearing aids; I'm talking about every time you realize there's something you don't know, some gap in your knowledge base, and instead of acting on your ignorance you take out your phone to learn something new. And yes, the next logical step in technological enhancements frightens us. The next step always frightens us. But it is what we—"  
_

Bruce paused it when someone knocked. "Come in."

Vision phased through the door. "Hello Dr. Banner. I apologize if I'm disturbing you."

"You're not. What's up?"

Vision looked down, paced a few steps. He seemed agitated. "There is something I feel a need to talk about, and I could think of no one better to discuss it with than you."

"Really?" Bruce felt honored until he realized something. "Because everyone else is out on missions today."

"There is that," he said with a quick smile. "But also, everyone else knew me well before. They remember a version of me that I do not. You didn't know him well, and because of that I hope you might talk to me and advise me as the person I am now, without regard to the ghost of my past self."

"I can try." He sat down, and with a gesture invited Vision to do the same. "What's the matter?"

"I'm concerned about Miss Maximoff."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"No," Vision answered quickly. "At least, nothing specific. But she is miserably unhappy, and I am unsure what I can do to help her. If I even can. Or if I would be the best person to try."

Bruce was surprised. He'd been expecting Vision to express concerns about the wisdom of allowing Wanda to remain a member of the Avengers, or at least including her on missions. This was unexpected. "You've come a long way from saying she's volatile and malicious," he said.

"I was mistaken. While it is my belief that her vigilatism was detrimental and unethical, I've come to see that she truly believed it was just; she has incredible power, and she believed she had a duty to use her power to punish criminals who would otherwise escape justice. I disagree with what she did, but I no longer believe she is unreasonable. Moreover, I've learned details of her past that provide mitigating insight on her state of mind."

"What kind of details?"

He sighed. "Dr. Banner, for as long as I can remember—which, admittedly, is fifty-two days now—I've felt there have been matters well-meaning people have chosen to conceal from me. I have become aware that, before my untimely death, Wanda and I had a romantic relationship. You told me she and I had been close, and that Thanos's attack profoundly altered her, so I believe you knew that."

"How did you find out? Did Wanda tell you?"

"No. It seems she is also taking part in the deception."

"We were worried about how you'd take it," he said. "You'd lost your memory, you saw her as a criminal, it would be a lot to spring on someone."

"That knowledge would have helped me understand the intensity of her response to me. It would have saved me a great deal of confusion, and saved her a degree of suffering. As grateful as I am that you restored me to life, I know it was in order to manipulate her, and I feel it was unfair, to me and to her, to use me in such a way without my knowledge."

"We didn't bring you back to catch Wanda," Bruce stated. "Tony and Shuri were working on repairing you even before they knew Wanda was still alive. We thought bringing you back might stop Wanda's crusade, because she was doing it to try to make up for not being able to save you. She targeted people who separated families or killed people in front of their loved ones, like what happened to her. But that wasn't the reason we brought you back. I don't think we even thought of it until Tony and I were trying to talk Dr. Strange into giving us the Mind Stone. We tried to restore you because we thought, if it was something we could do, it was the right thing to do."

"I still should have been told the nature of my relationship to her."

"How would you have felt if we did tell you at first? Not only did you have a life you didn't remember, but a girlfriend who was so devastated after losing you she'd gone off the deep end, abandoning her team to pursue her own twisted sense of justice? What would you have done? Pretended to remember her to protect her feelings? Run off to join her? Run away to avoid facing her, or avoid hurting her? We didn't know."

Vision tilted his head, thinking. "I believe I would have told her the truth, which would not have substantially changed the course of events. But I would have understood her better, and would not have inadvertantly hurt her as much as I have. At any rate, I did not come here to chastise you for what I believe was a reckless error, I came to ask your advice. Wanda _is_ suffering, terribly. She is living with unrelenting grief and guilt for her past. I believe she might benefit from talking to someone. Do you know if she saw anyone after her brother's death?"

"You mean a psychiatrist?" Bruce asked.

"Or a grief counseler. Or even just a friend she could confide in."

"I don't know. Honestly, I think we could all probably benefit from talking to a psychiatrist. Half of us have done terrible things in our pasts. Tony was an arms dealer, Nat and Clint were assassins, I've killed people and broken cities on accident. And we regularly put our lives on the line to stop catastrophes. That's a lot of pressure."

"How does Miss Romanoff deal with her past?"

"The skills she used to use to kill, now she uses to save lives. It's not that she thinks she can ever make up for the things she's done, but she reminds herself beating herself up for her past isn't going to bring anyone back. She focuses on what she can do, not what she did."

"That makes sense," Vision said. "Is it enough?"

"For her? Usually."

"And you?"

Bruce wasn't sure whether he was asking how he could live with his own past, or how he could love Nat in spite of hers. "I don't just have to live with the things I've done, but with the things I might do. Nat keeps the Hulk in check. He listens to her. I need her."

"I see. Is that why you love her?"

He shook his head. "I love her because she's _her._ She's the bravest person I've ever met, so beautiful, so strong, so resilient, unperturbed. Just so...so _cool._ I don't really know what else to call it."

"Would you still feel the same way if she didn't return your feelings?"

"I don't know. I've always liked her, but...falling in love with someone is kind of a feedback loop. It starts small, you see someone you're interested in and send signals, and if you get something back, you look closer, maybe see something you don't like and back off, maybe see something you do like and decide to give it a shot."

"It sounds incredibly complicated."

"It is. It can get so complicated. Your feelings can get so tangled up."

"How can you tell when you're in love?"

"It's a little different with everyone. Sometimes you just know, sometimes you don't. Sometimes you don't figure it out until it's too late." He looked at Vision curiously. He was so pensive. "How do you feel about Wanda?"

"I'm not sure. To be honest, I was terrified of her at first. Now I feel...sympathy for her. And gratitude. And, perhaps, admiration."

In a way it was surprising to hear Vision admit that, after the things he'd said about Wanda when she first came back. But in another way, it wasn't: if Vision had the same personality as he'd had before he lost his memory, the same hormones or whatever the synthezoid analogues were, then it made sense he'd find himself drawn to Wanda again.

"I am conflicted," Vision continued. "I'm not sure what I feel for her, entirely, but I know I do not wish to cause her any further pain. I'm at a loss how to avoid that."

He fell silent, looking at Bruce expectantly.

He felt entirely out of his depth. He wasn't a psychiatrist, or any kind of relationship expert. He shrugged. "Maybe it's impossible. Does she know you know?"

"No, I don't believe so."

"I don't know what to tell you. But...Wanda made her choice. She's back. She came back because you're back, even though she's convinced you'll never feel the same way about her."

"Is that what she believes?"

Bruce wasn't sure if he should divulge what Nat had told him about what Wanda had confided to her, but realized he didn't have to; he saw it himself every time he looked at her when she was around Vision: she was hopeless.

"Yeah, she really believes that," he said.

Vision sat in silence with a thoughtful frown.

"Look," Bruce added, "all I'm saying is Wanda wouldn't've come back if she didn't want to, and she could leave if she wanted to. You might be worrying too much about it. It's gonna take her a while to get used to you being back alive, but she's already doing better."

Vision looked away. His eyes fell on Bruce's computer screen. "You've been looking into Olson Carroll?"

"Yeah. I'd heard of him before: he helped develop some cutting-edge technologies. I'd had the impression he was considered eccentric, but he's really out there."

"He argued that artificial intelligence would not resemble the thought process of its human creators. I can't help but wonder what he would think of me. Would you consider me an artificial intelligence, Dr. Banner?"

"No."

"Then what am I?"

He wondered how much of his theory about the Mind Stone he should explain. "You're a lot of things. Part of your consciousness comes from Ultron, part of it comes from Tony's JARVIS program, part of it comes from Dr. Cho's design of your brain, and part of it is the Mind Stone."

"How do I tell which of my thoughts, what impulses, what emotions come from which influence?"

"I don't think you can," Bruce answered. "But that's not unique. Humans haven't figured that out about our own brains. How much of our decisions are rational and how much instinctive? We don't know. So many of our choices we make subconsciously, never knowing what or how many factors go into them. Our bodies are run by two separate nerve centers: the brain and the enteric nervous system. We need them both to survive, but we don't know how much they influence each other, if they do."

"Are you saying I am not substantially unlike a human in that respect?"

He shrugged. "All these things you're wondering about and worrying about sound pretty human to me. But I don't know. I've done a lot more thinking about this kind of thing than most people. I don't know if the Hulk is something new that just shares my body or if he's an aspect of myself that has always been in me and just came out when I used myself as a test subject for something I didn't even understand. I don't know to what extent the Hulk and I are the same person."

Vision smiled distantly. "It seems you and I have a great deal in common."

He chuckled. "I guess we do. I mean, you're a super-powerful, hyper-sentient robot and I'm a guy who turns into a big green monster when I get worked up, but we're both trying to figure ourselves out."

"And I believe that, perhaps, if given the choice...we would both prefer to be normal humans."

It was slightly jarring to hear Vision make such a confession. Of course it was true for him—there hadn't been a day since the Hulk first appeared that he hadn't wished to be normal. But for Vision, who was so powerful, practically indestructable, able to fly, possibly immortal...in short, everything a normal human would want to be...

Vision saw his shock and explained. "I am the only of my kind in the universe. I am odd. I do not understand my own nature, and I have no one who can teach or even empathize with me. I am alone."

"Everyone feels alone sometimes," Bruce said. "And wanting what you don't have is human nature. Maybe you're more like us than you think."

"I wish to be. I can't help but wonder, is that why I entered a relationship with Wanda? Was it because the fact that she could have feelings for me made me feel more human? Or did I seek a relationship with her in an attempt to assuage my sense of isolation? I wish I could remember. Was it...a selfish act? By entering a relationship with her, I took away the possibility of her forming a romantic attachment with another human, at least for the short term. I may have deprived her of a chance at happiness. Why would I do that?"

"You know, Hulk left the planet because he had the same thoughts about a relationship with Natasha, and that turned out to be a huge mistake. You don't really choose who you fall for. When you love someone, you feel like all you want is them to be happy, but seeing them happy, just being with them...that makes you happy. Whether love is selfish or selfless...it's kind of both. I didn't know you and Wanda while you were together, but from what I saw, she really loved you. I don't know how it started, but it was there."

Vision looked away, increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation. His eyes fell on the computer screen again. With a definite tone of deliberately changing the subject, he said, "I've been considering the strategy of Olson Carroll's spiderbots. I noticed during the altercation at the refinery that different units were designed for different attacks. One was designed to create an electromagnetic pulse, some were fitted to shoot bullets, some were designed to deliver electric currents, others were designed to break into the building."

"Makes sense; keep them small and efficient by designing each bot for a specific task."

He shook his head slightly. "I don't believe they were tools, so much as tests."

"Tests?" Bruce repeated.

"The bots continued to attack until each one was destroyed. There was no strategic advantage to those attacks other than gathering data. They were testing us, determining which attacks were most effective against each of us. They determined early on that Tony, Rhodes, and Sam could be incapacitated with an EMP, that my vibranium matrix makes me vulnerable to electricity. I don't believe they found weaknesses for Captain Rogers or Wanda. They have not fought you or Miss Romanoff. For that reason, the two of you may have an advantage when we face them again."

Bruce looked at the image of the eccentric supergenius on the computer screen. "That's good to know."

"Thank you for your insights on the situation with Wanda. If you are not opposed to it, I would appreciate being able to consult you further after I have given it more thought."

"Yeah, of course. No problem."

Vision headed toward the nearest wall.

"Hey, Vis?" he said to stop him. He'd heard Wanda use that nickname during their flight to Wakanda, and figured calling Vision by a nickname might help him feel more included, more human.

Vision turned toward him. "Yes, Dr. Banner?"

"You can call me Bruce. Look, however you decide you feel about Wanda, as long as it's how you really feel, it's the right answer. You might not feel the same way about her now, but what you had with her before you lost your memory, that was real. That was human. You're part robot and part Mind Stone, but you were made by Dr. Cho, by Tony, and by me, so you're part human too. Don't forget that."

"That is comforting. Thank you, Bruce."


	26. Cockcrow

Chapter 26: Cockcrow

in sorrow at our  
parting with the faint flush of  
dawn it was I who  
first cried out before the cock  
could announce the break of day

~Utsuku, _Kokinshu_ 640, trans. Laurel Rasplica Rodd and Mary Catherine Henkenius

It hadn't been easy to locate this secret factory deep in the Sahara.

With the help of Wakanda's intelligence network, they'd been able to locate and rescue the kidnapped scientists, who had been compelled to work on improving the spiderbot designs while held captive at a compound deep in the mountains of central Asia. There had been spiderbot prototypes at the compound, but it was obviously not the main production facility. However, they had found a specialized bot that served as a computational hub, sending instructions to other bots in the network. By hacking the hub bot, Tony had been able to determine it was getting instructions through a satellite signal originating in the Sahara.

Satellite images of the landscape had found the building. It was huge, but constructed in an irregular, asymmetrical shape that to a casual observer would be dismissed as a hill or large rock outcropping, especially since it matched the color of the surrounding desert. But closer inspection had revealed it was studded with solar panels.

Now they were here—Vision, Steve, Nat, Bruce, and Wanda, sneaking onto the top of the building in the middle of the night. Up close, they saw the building was the same color as the surrounding sand because that was what it was made of: tons of sand cemented together in a primative but effective form of 3-D printing.

"You're up, Maximoff," Steve said.

Wanda reached out and tapped at the air with her fingertips. Strands of red light appeared and seemed to flow into her fingertips.

"There's a passage nearby, over there. No humans. I can't tell if there are bots."

Steve nodded. "Okay. We're going in. Remember the plan: stay in visual; we won't be able to rely on comms. Stop any bot we run into. Find the hub, and break it. Wanda, get us in."

With a twist of her hand, she ripped a chunk out of the rooftop, opening a hole into darkness.

Vision entered first, phasing through the roof to see if the hole had attracted any attention. "We are clear," he said.

The others dropped down through the hole.

The walls of the hallway they found themselves in were made of the same sand conglomerate as the outer walls and rooftop, but the floor was tiled, as if designed with human foot traffic in mind. Vision had suspected spiderbots had built and ran this building, but the flooring suggested a human presence.

Steve looked one way and the other. There was no light inside the corridor, so it was impossible to guess which way they should go.

He picked at random, and indicated the direction with a quick hand signal. They made their way cautiously. Their only source of light was the yellow glow of the Mind Stone.

It wasn't long before they came upon a spiderbot. It opened fire on them instantly. Steve deflected the bullets with his shield, then Wanda crushed the bot.

"I'm guessing we're going to have more company soon," Nat noted.

She was right. Within a minute, dozens of bots converged on them from both directions.

"Code green," Nat said to Bruce as she pulled out a pair of guns.

"Yeah," he replied.

Wanda created a shield around them as the bots opened fire. With a groan that turned into a roar, Bruce became Hulk and launched himself at the bots coming up behind them. Vision blasted bots in front of them. Steve rushed forward, thowing his shield to crush a line of bots.

The battle was over in less than two minutes.

It took another minute of silence before they accepted no more bots were coming. Nat put her guns away. "My bullets aren't penatrating the casing on their central nodes, and when I take out one of their legs they just reassemble. I'm almost out of bullets. I don't know how helpful I'm going to be in the next fight."

"Hulk stay close," Hulk said.

"Thanks big guy."

"Let's all stay close," said Steve. "If Vision's theory is right, they're going to tailor their attacks for each of us, which means we'll have to watch each other's backs."

They kept going. The layout of the building was labrynthine, possibly in anticipation of just such an incursion. Vision floated above, lighting the way and keeping a look out for more bots. Wanda walked ahead, her hands raised in front if her, ready to shield the group if they ran into anything unexpected. Hulk took the rear, using his size to shield Nat from potential attacks from behind.

A cluster of bots appeared ahead of them, dropping from an alcove in the ceiling, at the exact second that the floor opened up beneath Steve's feet.

"Steve!" Wanda turned just as the trapdoor slammed shut. Her eyes lifted to a group of bots flying out of the darkness. "Hulk, behind you!"

With attacks coming from both sides, Wanda had to turn her attention from the trapdoor to the ambush.

"Vision, find Cap; we've got this covered," Nat commanded.

He nodded.

Wanda glanced away from the spiderbots she was handling. "Be safe," she implored him as he descended through the floor.

Vision looked around the hidden chamber. It was full of large moveable tubes extending from the walls. As he looked for where Steve could have gone, one of the tubes swiveled toward him and a door at the end snapped open. A powerful vacuum within sucked the air around him. He phased, allowing the air to flow through him to avoid being sucked into the tube. In seconds, the airflow shut off as the door slammed shut.

He looked around again. It was a series of giant pneumatic tubes, designed to deliver something—a bot, component parts, or a human—from here to somewhere else in the building. That was what had happened to the Captain.

Wanda had walked over the same trapdoor that had taken Steve, and it hadn't opened for her. That indicated it had been a deliberate choice: they were being monitored, by someone with a "divide and conquer" strategy. Someone who had just tried to suck him into one of those tubes and saw it fail.

He realized this in seconds, just as a bot flew up toward him and shot an electrified wire at him. He dodged out of the way, phasing through a wall. He had to find Steve. Wherever he'd been taken, it had likely been designed specifically to defeat him.

He found himself in a large, illuminated room, a factory floor where robots assembled parts for other robots. There was a control panel at the center of the room, including a switch prominently labeled "Emergency Shut Down." He flew toward it; if he could shut it off, it might disable all of the bots in its network, including the ones fighting Wanda, Nat, and Hulk, and possibly Steve.

But the moment he alighted in front of the control panel, an arc of electricity shot through him from the floor. A circle of metal and wiring rose out of the floor around him, an inner ring spinning, a powerful electromagnet grabbing him, zapping him with enough electicity to keep him immobile. It turned from horizontal to vertical, suspending him. He tried to turn his head to blast the electromagnet, but the current increased to match his movement.

He was frozen; this was his trap. He couldn't move, could only watch the robots around the room continue moving, continue working. He was helpless, but the bots weren't even trying to kill him. For some reason, this contraption was rigged to keep him immobile but alive, conscious. Why?

It came to him with a rush of horror.

In the battle at the refinery, the bots had ended up focusing their attacks on Wanda, their biggest threat. He'd thought they hadn't found a weakness for her, but they had. They must have recorded the way she ignored the immediate threat to herself to destroy the bots threatening _him._

He was alive because they had identified him as Wanda's weakness.

He was bait.

...

... ... ...

...

Nat didn't flip the light switch. It was enough to know there was one.

Watching Hulk fight the spiderbots had given her the revelation that they were navigating by visual imputs. They couldn't aim at Hulk when the Hulk was in darkness. Deciding to abandon Steve's idea of sticking together, Nat had ordered Hulk and Wanda to go in different directions, to destroy every bot they saw. This had allowed her to set off on her own, feeling her way through pitch dark. She'd found a doorway that led to a walkway. The lightswitch on the wall next to the door told her this walkway was designed for a human. She made her way along it, fingers brushing the rails, moving slowly enough to make no sound on the metal beneath her feet. She heard spiderbots flying past, above and below, but none of them detected her.

This was how a black widow spider moved, she reflected: slowly, cautiously, relying on feel instead of sight.

In the dark, the smallest light stood out. A doorway glowing a lighter shade of black than the surroundings, a glint around a corner, and finally the thinnest crack under a door.

The door was locked. The air vent above it—she found it by feeling the slight breeze—was not.

She kicked out the vent on the other wall and dropped into the room. She had her guns out by the time she landed in a crouch, aimed at the room's single occupant.

"Olson Carroll."

He slowly took off a headset, stood, and turned toward her.

"Call me Milianix," he said.

"No. Where's the Captain?"

He looked at her calculatingly. She could see screens on the console behind him, most of them black. One of them appeared to be a layout of the building with moving dots she guessed indicated the location of bots.

"He's alive for now," Olson answered. "Putting up a good fight. I'm worried. But whatever happens here tonight, you're already too late."

"What do you mean?"

"Miss Romanoff, the world has changed. You should know that better than anyone. You should also know better than most that humanity is a failed experiment. If we don't improve ourselves, our only possible fate is extinction."

"So I've heard. I've seen your talks. I've read your essays. You've got some interesting ideas, but kidnapping top scientists and building an army of robots is not the way to make the world a better place."

"It's a good start. But it was always just one piece of a bigger puzzle."

"You know who had the same idea? Ultron. It didn't turn out well for him. Shut down your bots and we'll talk about it."

"There won't be time for that," he said.

"You'll have all the time in the world in prison," Nat stated. "That's best case scenario for you right now."

He glanced over his shoulder at the video screens. "The robots are autonomous. Only I can override their programming. If I die, they keep attacking."

"And we'll destroy them all."

"Maybe. But these aren't my only children, and how many of yours do you think mine can kill before you destroy them all? I have hundreds, you came here tonight with five. Even one is a huge loss to you."

"If even one of my team dies, I will kill you right here," she threatened.

"You would have to do it fast," he replied.

She frowned. He didn't sound the least bit afraid. His right hand was slightly closed.

"What do you have in your hand?"

He opened it, dropping an empty syringe and revealing a red dot on his palm.

Nat put away her guns. "What did you take?" she demanded, rushing to him.

"Something quick and painless."

She checked his pulse. It was weak and slow. From here she could see the screens clearly. On the map of the building, she could see a cluster of circles moving chaotically and blinking out: bots attacking Hulk. Down another corridor, circles of light blinking out one by one: Wanda moving down the hallway, taking out bots as she went. She was approaching a large room at the center of the building, possibly the factory floor.

On another screen, she saw an enclosed room where jets of high-powered water sprayed in, freezing as soon as the water hit a surface. Steve was in there, partially buried in ice, using his shield like an umbrella to keep the water off as he tried to break out of the ice as it formed around him. There was an "off" button on the screen. Nat touched it. The streams of water slowed to a stop, Steve looked up in confusion, then broke out of the ice and leaped to the door. He pounded on it. He'd break through it soon, but before he could hit it twice, Nat found the "Freeze Room" on the map screen and touched the icon for the door. On the video feed, she saw the door open and Steve tumble out into the hallway.

"You never expected anyone to find this place," she noted.

"I never expected anyone to find their way to this room," Olson said weakly, "but this whole building...I designed it with people like you in mind."

"Too bad you won't live to see us bring it down," she said. "If you've got an antidote for whatever you just injected, now's your last chance, Olson."

He smiled. "No thanks. And call me...Milianix."

Her eyes went back to the screens. Where was Vision? She couldn't tell. Another quick look at the map showed her several bots were converging on the freeze room. She didn't know if Steve was in any shape to hold them off. A quick glance at Olson Carroll told her he was dead, though she checked for a pulse to make sure before running out the door.


	27. Fate

Chapter 27: Fate

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in  
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere  
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done  
by only me is your doing,my darling)  
i fear  
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want  
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)  
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant  
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows  
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud  
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows  
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)  
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

~e.e. cummings

Wanda felt Vision. She felt his pain and fear, and helplessness.

Another group of spiderbots appeared in her path, and she crushed them against the wall with a wave of her hand. When she used her power, she lost her beat on Vision's mind for a moment and nearly went into a panic until she caught the thread of it again. She had to find him. She had to save him.

Sensing he was close, she made a hole in a wall, crumbling the cemented sand. Light flooded into the corridor, momentarily blinding her. She covered her eyes and flew through the hole.

There he was, in the middle of the factory floor, suspended at the center of a metal circle like a bug pinned in a display case, squiggles of blue electricity zapping him from all sides. An experiment? Were they going to use him to try to improve the spiderbot design? Study him like a specimen? Dissect him?

She shed her rage in a peal of energy that destroyed the spiderbots between her and him. His eyes fixed on her, filled with terror.

More bots zoomed around him, getting in formation like they thought they stood any chance of keeping her from him. She broke them.

Something hit her from behind with enough force to send a shock of pain through her middle and knock her forward to her knees. She glanced back to see a giant spiderbot behind her, and she destroyed that too, tearing it in half and swinging the pieces around to crush the few other bots still buzzing around Vision. She broke the electrific wires feeding the machine holding Vision pinned, catching him before he could fall, lowering him gently to the ground.

Her stomach was aching. Looking down, she saw blood staining her outfit. With one hand, she directed her power toward herself, holding the wound closed, while her other hand plucked another spiderbot out of the air and crushed it. Vision flew toward her, blasting away a couple of bots coming from behind.

She was starting to feel light-headed.

"Wanda..."

He landed in front of her and caught her just as she began to sink. He lowered her gently to the floor.

That's when she realized how much pain she was really in. Her stomach felt simultaneously like it was cut open and on fire. She felt warm liquid pool around her, accompanied by a horrible smell. The giant spiderbot had shot her with something through her left abdomen, back to front.

Over the course of her life, Wanda had known so many kinds of pain, and she had faced death so many times. The first time she thought she was going to die had been trapped for two days staring at an unexploded bomb. Living on the streets as a teen, there had been a couple of encounters when she'd been sure she was about to be killed. During the HYDRA experiments, lying in pain in a dim room, every cell in her body buzzing with energy she didn't understand, she'd thought she was going to die like so many of the other test subjects around her. After she killed Ultron, when the city started falling, she'd thought she was about to die. For that matter, feeling Pietro die had been a pain so extreme she legitimately thought it might kill her. She'd watched her body turn to dust in the Snap, though at that point, having just put herself through killing Vision, she hadn't been able to think or feel much of anything.

This pain now—this burning, shredding, consuming pain—she couldn't see how she could survive this one. She was growing weaker by the second, becoming unable to focus.

Vision leaned over her, one hand cradling the back of her head. "Wanda, speak to me."

He looked so concerned. She had to smile. His face was so beautiful. Just looking at him made the pain less excruciating.

"It's alright," she said. "Vis, it's alright. You're alive."

She wasn't afraid to die this time, she was just sad. Sad about the people and the world she would never see again. Especially Vision.

"You'll be alright, Wanda. We'll get you out of here."

"No, I don't think so." She winced as a fresh gush of pain shot through her. "Just stay with me, please. It won't be for long."

He looked at her with a stricken expression, like he really cared about her. "You're not going to die. I won't let you."

"I don't think it's up to you or me," she said. Her eyes stayed fixed on him even as her body shook with pain. His face would be the last thing she would ever see. She wished she could see his smile one last time, but that would be too much to ask. "Vis..." Giving up on trying to hold her wound closed, she placed her hand on his wrist. "It's alright. 'i fear no fate'," she whispered. "'i want no world'."

If he'd read that book she'd given him, he'd know the reference. He'd find out how much he meant to her, when she was gone. Surely someone would tell him, would explain.

"Wanda, stay with me."

She didn't have much left. She tried to say to him the last thing he'd said to her before he died, the truth that her whole body was brimming with, but all she managed to get out was a whispered "...You."

"No. Wanda, please."

Suddenly, impulsively, he phased his arm into her, plunging his arm into her wound and solidifying it in the empty spaces. He was trying to stop the bleeding. She hoped it would work, but she doubted it. She kept her eyes on him, striving to do as he'd asked and stay with him.

But the world went out.


	28. Dyed

Chapter 28: Dyed

There was no color  
To my heart, but with you  
It is dyed and now  
That it might fade  
Is beyond imagination.

~Ki no Tsurayuki, Kokinshu 729, trans. Thomas McAuley, wakapoetry dot net

Nat and Steve entered the largest room in the building ready to fight, only to find it littered with the broken remnants of a couple dozen bots. They spotted Vision a second later.

It took Nat a few seconds to realize what she was seeing: Wanda lying motionless in a pool of blood, Vision's arm phased into her stomach up to his elbow.

"I stopped the bleeding, but her pulse is getting weaker," Vision stated. He looked up at them, his eyes pleading for a miracle he didn't hold any real hope they could provide. "Please help me."

Nat was stunned silent. How could this happen? Wanda, the one of them powerful enough to defeat Thanos, taken down by robots? Her mind was having trouble accepting it. There was so much blood. She scrambled to think of something she could do to save her friend.

It was Steve who thought of something. "The freeze room. We have to get her to the freeze room. If we can freeze her in time, there might be a chance."

Nat nodded. "Vision, you'll need to carry her. Steve, get them to the freeze room as fast as you can. I'll go to the control room and get it going as soon as you're in place."

Vision scooped Wanda up in his free arm and flew after Steve. Nat sprinted back to the control room as fast as she could. She stepped past Olson Carroll's body to get to the control panel.

"You better not have killed her, you son of a bitch," she said to the corpse, "or so help me..."

On the screen, she saw Vision enter the freeze room, cradling Wanda. She touched the door icon and watched the door slam shut. She tapped the words "Freeze Room" and a short list of option appeared: "deep freeze," "slow freeze," "chill," "thaw," and "speaker." She tapped "deep freeze" and watched the supercooled water spray in. Vision curled his body around Wanda to protect her from the full force of the blast.

Nat didn't think Vision knew what freezing would do to him. She knew from training exercizes back before the rift that Vision could function just fine in sub-zero temperatures, but she didn't think he knew that. But he was staying with Wanda anyway, keeping her wound sealed and holding her head up as the ice congealed around them.

When the room was filled with ice, the water jets automatically shut off. Vision phased out into the hallway.

Nat looked at the map of the building. There were no more lit dots. It seemed all the spiderbots in the building were destroyed.

She could hear walls being smashed, and left the control room to follow the sound. She found Hulk in the factory.

"Hey there, big guy."

He finished throwing a heavy piece of equipment before turning toward her and smiling.

"Pretty girl!"

"You did a great job. You got them all. It's time to rest now. The sun's getting real low."

"Goodnight kiss."

"Okay. _One_ goodnight kiss. Get over here."

Hulk knelt in front of her. She put her hands on his cheeks and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

"Now it's rest time." She took his hand and ran her fingers along the inside of his wrist.

The Hulk curled up, trembling but not fighting the transformation. Moments later, Bruce looked up at her. "Natasha."

She helped him to his feet. He looked around at the destruction. "Is that blood? What happened?"

"Wanda's down. It's bad."

"How bad?"

"I don't know. She was bleeding out from a stomach wound. Carroll trapped Steve in a room designed to freeze him in ice. He had the idea to use it to freeze Wanda. That's where she is now."

Bruce was starting to look worried. "Did it freeze her fast enough to avoid her cells rupturing from ice crystals?"

"I have no idea. But we had to try something. Look how much blood there is; she wasn't going to make it."

He nodded. "I'm sorry. I know how much you care about her."

She nodded. But she couldn't think about that right now. She turned and led the way toward the freeze room. "Olson Carroll is dead. He killed himself so I couldn't take him in."

"Wow. That's too bad."

"I'm not going to lose any sleep over it."

They found Steve and Vision waiting at the door. Steve stood at attention, as if guarding it. Vision sat on the floor, staring at his hand. There was no blood on it—that would have been left behind when he phased out of the room—so whatever he was staring at was psychological.

"She's in there?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah," said Steve.

Bruce tapped his fingers on the door thoughtfully. "We shouldn't risk moving her. She thaws out in transit, she's gone. I'll call Shuri and Helen Cho. If anyone in the world can save her, they can."

...

... ... ...

...

Vision couldn't get the images out of his head: Wanda bursting into the room, flying straight into the trap. He'd watched as the spiderbot snuck behind her, taking aim while she was too focused on saving him to notice it. He'd been unable to warn her, could only watch helplessly as it blasted her. He'd thought she'd died in that moment. But she'd gotten back up, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was bleeding.

He remembered the expression on her face when she realized she was dying, the acute sorrow and disappointment. Then her eyes had fixed on him.

He went through the events of that fight again and again. Was there anything more he could have done? If he had thought to use his phasing ability to stem the bloodflow sooner, would it have made a difference?

If she died...

He couldn't bear to contemplate that possibility, overwhelmingly likely as it was.

While the others returned to the Quinjet to update Tony on the strike and to contact Shuri and Dr. Cho, Vision stayed where he was, stationed outside the door of the freeze room. Unlike them, he didn't need medical treatment, food, or rest. That was the excuse he'd given to stay behind just in case there were spiderbots they'd missed or other threats hidden in the building, and no one had objected or questioned his motives.

Shuri and Dr. Cho arrived a few hours later with Nat, Bruce, Steve, and Tony. Shuri used a probe to assess Wanda's condition while she was still encased in ice.

"The perforation ruptured her spleen and stomach. Gastric acid spilled into her abdominal cavity. There's a lot of tissue damage that will have to be removed. If we were in my lab in Wakanda, this would be much easier."

"My mobile cradle could rebuild the lost tissue. The problem will be keeping her from bleeding out when her body begins to thaw before I can repair the damage."

"I can help with that. I have a vibranium compound that, in a magnetic field, binds to ruptured blood vessels. It would stop the bleeding without coagulation. Once the magnetic field is off, the compound enters the bloodstream and passes harmlessly through the body."

"You have it with you?"

"Yes. I hope you don't mind sharing the credit if we pull this off."

"This woman once saved me from a fate worse than death," Dr. Cho said. "I'll do anything in my power to save her life. I don't give a damn about the credit."

Shuri raised her eyebrow. "What did she save you from that was so terrible?"

"Being forced to use my expertise to help Ultron destroy the human race"

"Yeah, that would be worse than death," Shuri agreed.

"Wanda Maximoff freed me from Ultron's mind control, endangering her own life in the process." Dr. Cho stared at the door thoughtfully. "We'll need to remove her from as much of the ice as we can without raising her temperature, and get her into the cradle as fast as we can."

Vision had been listening unobtrusively but attentively, and chose that moment to turn to them. "What can I do?"

"You've already done so much," Dr. Cho said. "She'd be dead if it weren't for you. There's no doubt about that."

She might be dead anyway, he thought but didn't say.

Tony carved through the ice using a precision blowtorch. Finally he carried Wanda out, chunks of ice still clinging to her skin, which was a disturbing shade of blue-white. The cradle was ready and waiting for her. They'd wired the cradle into the electrical grid in the spiderbot factory, not daring to power it down for even long enough to transport it to the Quinjet.

Vision looked on as Dr. Cho and Shuri operated on Wanda using roboticized surgical instruments inside the cradle. They consulted each other in hushed, tense tones, debated over individual excisions, what antibacterials to administer, and when and how fast to start raising her temperature. Nat and Steve also stood by, waiting anxiously. Bruce, after asking Shuri several questions about her vibranium compound, joined them. He rested his hand on Nat's shoulder comfortingly. She reached up and covered his hand with hers.

"I've begun the process of printing the synthetic tissue. With the damage this extensive, this will take several hours," Dr. Cho told them. "I've administered enough sedative to keep her unconscious and immobile for the entire process. The cradle will alert us if there's any change in her vital signs."

"Is her heart beating?" Nat asked.

"Yes. Very slowly. I'm not going to sugarcoat this: I can repair the damage to her body, but a lot depends on how much bloodflow to her brain was interrupted before she was frozen. There's no telling when she'll wake up. Or if."

"She's strong," Steve said. "She'll pull through."

Slowly, the others drifted away to attend to securing the building, dealing with the legal ramifications of Olson Carroll's death (the Sokovia Accords mandated an independent investigation) and catologuing the spiderbots. The humans also needed food and rest. Vision remained by the cradle, looking at the blur of Wanda's face through the frosted glass.

Dr. Cho came to stand next to him. "I heard you were suffering from full retrograde amnesia after Shuri revived you."

"That's correct."

"Have you been regaining any of your memories?"

"A few."

"That would be expected in a human, and your brain is largely modeled after a human brain." She looked down into the cradle. "I take it you've remembered her?"

Her tone was significant, with a note of sympathy that indicated she knew how much Vision was grieving.

"Did you know about my relationship with Wanda?" he asked curiously.

She nodded. "You told me. It was when she was in hiding with the other Rogue Avengers."

"I must have trusted you very much to confide such a dangerous secret. I'm sorry I don't remember."

"I think you just wanted to tell someone about it," she said. "That, and you asked me to act as mother of the groom if you ever married her."

That made sense. Of all the people who'd contributed to his creation, she perhaps had the biggest hand. But he was surprised he'd been thinking of marrying Wanda. It seemed such a human desire.

"Her stomach and spleen are finished. I'm going to finish raising her body temperature."

"Thank you for everything you've done for her," Vision said.

"Let's hope it's enough."

She watched a screen that showed the progress of the cell printers, several thin robotic arms working inside the hole in her left side, which was held open by bioresorbable scaffolding, printing cells layer by layer directly in the wound. Vision couldn't watch it without something cold and awful shuddering through him. He wondered about how he was feeling, like he was dying with her, like there was a hole in him to match hers.

"She's back up to normal body temperature, and her vitals are stable. I'm going to get some rest," Dr. Cho said. She had been working on saving Wanda for twelve and a half hours.

"I'm staying here," Vision stated. "I don't want her to be alone if she wakes."

"She's not going to wake up any time soon."

"A normal human wouldn't, but I'm not so sure about Wanda."

Dr. Cho nodded, and Vision was soon left alone with Wanda, and the low whirring and humming sounds of the cradle seemed very loud in the sudden loneliness.

Vision let his hand phase through the glass of the cradle and held Wanda's hand. It felt warm and familiar. It felt like home, like Wanda's hand was where his hand belonged.

His other hand phased in and stroked her hair back from her forehead. Her color was better: she was still paler than normal, but she looked alive.

He remained with her, just like that, for hours.

It was deep in the darkest morning hours, halfway between midnight and daybreak, thirty hours from when Wanda was frozen, when her lips moved. "Vis?"

"I'm here," he answered, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand to reassure her of his presence.

Her eyes blinked open blearily and sought him.

"Try not to move," he said.

"I feel so strange."

"You were injured. You're being healed."

"I thought you were dead."

The anesthetics in her system were likely clouding her thinking. He needed to keep her calm, to make sure her heart rate remained steady and she didn't move too much with the tissue printers still inside her. "That must have been a dream," he lied.

"Thanos was coming. We had to stop him. I had to destroy the Mind Stone. I had no choice. Did I dream that?"

So this was the missing piece of the puzzle, the thing that had broken Wanda, that made her act so tense and raw whenever she was around him: not only had she watched him die, she'd killed him herself.

"Yes. It was only a dream. I'm here."

"I dreamed you came back, but you didn't recognize me. You didn't remember anything."

"That must have been a terrible nightmare, but it's over now. It's alright."

"Do you remember that I love you?" she asked.

The question cut through him. He felt for her; she had suffered so much.

"Yes. Of course I do."

She smiled.

"Please rest now, Wanda."

Her eyes closed. He continued stroking her hair and hand, and in moments she was asleep.


	29. Interwoven

Author's note: It's a complete coincidence that I'm getting this chapter up today. It just kind of worked out perfectly. Happy Valentine's Day!

Chapter 29: Interwoven

One loom—  
Picking mulberry leaves on the field path, I wear my new spring dress.  
The wind is clear, the sun is warm, I feel lazy and limp.  
On the flowering peach branch  
The singing oriole tells me  
He won't hear of my going home.

Two looms—  
The traveler stops his horse and hesitates.  
What's deep in my heart I won't lightly reveal.  
I turn my head and smile at him.  
I go home through the blossoms,  
Only afraid that the blossoms may know.

Three looms—  
The Wu silkworms are already old, the swallow chicks have flown.  
An east wind blows. The feast is over in Long Island Garden.  
Light silk invites.  
In the guesthouse a babe, in the palace a woman.  
I want to change my dancing gown.

Four looms—  
Squeak and caw sounds from within. I gloomily knit my brows.  
The shuttle moves to and fro, embroidering lotus seeds.  
A dish of flowers is easy to bind up, a troubled heart is hard to mend,  
Feelings disordered as silk threads.

Five looms—  
Unexpectedly the weave just flows into a kind of poem,  
At its heart a verse where people don't meet.  
Without a word it saddens you.  
Without a word it withers you.  
Only this: you live, and you yearn.

Six looms—  
All motion is playing in flowers.  
Among the flowers furthermore there is a pair of butterflies.  
Stop the shuttle for a midday.  
Taking leisure in the view from the window,  
By myself I look at many things for a while.

Seven looms—  
The mandarin ducks weave toward each other again hesitantly.  
I'm only afraid that someone will frivolously rend them apart.  
Separate, they fly to two destinations,  
Homesick for the same place.  
What ruse can bring them together again?

Eight looms—  
Whose poem are these answering lines for, do you know?  
I've woven a cloth of desolate thoughts.  
I read the lines aloud in full,  
Weary beyond telling.  
I can't bear more pondering!

Nine looms—  
A pair of flowers, a pair of leaves, again a pair of twigs.  
Love is inconstant; from time immemorial there have been many partings.  
From the beginning to the end,  
I desire my heart to be entwined and bound,  
Threaded on a strand of silk.

~Anonymous, "Nine Looms", c. 12th century China, trans. Hans Frankel (Stanza 1 & 2, from The _Flowering Plum and the Palace Lady_ ), and me (Stanza 3-9)

"The radio signal broadcast in all directions; there's no way to track it to the receiver."

That was Nat's voice coming from somewhere.

"And it was sent out after Carroll killed himself?"

Steve's voice.

"I don't know exactly what time Carroll died. It's not like I checked my watch. But it was about the same time. I'm telling you, I think he pulled a Zola. I'm betting he copied his brain to a computer somewhere."

Wanda forced her eyes open. She was in a bright room—blindingly bright. After a few seconds, she could make out some darker figures against the glare.

"If he did, we'll find him. A guy like him can't keep his opinions quiet for long. He'll show up on the internet sometime," Tony said.

Then she heard Vision's voice beside her, soft and quiet. "Wanda's awake."

She looked toward him. He was sitting beside her bed, not close, about a meter away. He stood and moved away as Steve and Nat rushed to her bedside.

"Wanda, how are you feeling?" Steve asked.

"Um, good...I think. But where am I? I thought I was dead. Unless this is heaven. Or hell, or wherever I was going."

"Oh, you're alive," Nat assured her, "but it was a close call, and don't ever do that to me again."

Bruce came up on the other side of the bed. "Do you have a headache? Dizziness?"

"I don't think so." Wanda tried to catch Vision's eyes. "What happened? I thought I was shot, but I feel fine."

"You were shot, then frozen, then Dr. Cho operated on you," Nat explained.

A curtain parted, and Wanda sat up in surprise. "Shuri!"

Shuri stared at her, frowning.

"I'm sorry, I know you don't remember me..."

"You shouldn't be sitting up," Shuri said. "I mean, you shouldn't be physically able to be sitting up."

"Sorry." She lay back down. "Are we in Wakanda?"

"Yeah. We brought you here as soon as you were healed enough to move," Steve answered.

Shuri placed some kind of scanner over Wanda's head and tapped a bead on her bracelet, pulling up a hologram of her brain. "Can you tell me your full name?"

"Wanda Maximoff."

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Four."

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Fighting spiderbots. One hit me from behind. It hurt so much I was sure I was dying. And Vision..." She glanced at Vision, who averted his eyes from her quickly. A storm of emotions lit up the brain scan. "Vision saved me."

"Everyone saved you," Vision said. "Captain Rogers had the idea to freeze you in the room Olson Carroll designed to entrap him, Dr. Banner contacted Shuri and Dr. Helen Cho in the hope that they might be able to repair you, and they did."

"Thank you."

Shuri ran some more tests. Bruce and Tony watched curiously. Nat and Steve stayed close, offering comfort. Vision stayed on the sidelines.

Wanda thought back over the moments when she thought she was about to die, the things she'd said to him. No wonder he was keeping his distance.

Dr. Cho entered and came to her bedside. "Visiting hours are over. I need to examine my patient."

Vision, Nat, Steve, Bruce, and Tony left the room.

"Hello Dr. Cho," Wanda said nervously.

"Hello Wanda. It's been a while."

"I'm sorry about Ultron," she said.

"You saved me from Ultron. I never got a chance to thank you for that."

Wanda didn't know what to say. She felt too responsible for Ultron to accept thanks instead of blame. "Thank you for making Vision. I know it wasn't your choice to build him, but no one else could have done it."

"Thank you," Dr. Cho said, accepting the compliment. "Wanda, I'm going to scan your organs to make sure the tissue connectivity integration is holding, and to make sure there's no infection."

"Okay."

Dr. Cho ran some kind of medical instrument across Wanda's midriff and ribcage. The metal was cold against her skin, and Dr. Cho moved it very slowly, keeping an eye on a screen that showed the results in what looked to Wanda like black and white squiggles.

"Everything looks great." She glanced at Shuri. "How does her brain look?"

"So far there doesn't appear to be any functional impairment, but I've only begun to test her."

"Then let's get on with it."

Shuri nodded. "Wanda, I want you to lay back and relax."

She did.

Shuri started by having her count to ten, count backwards from one hundred by threes, answer math questions, and identify pictures of objects.

"You're doing great," Shuri said. "I have one more excersize. I'm going to say a word, and you tell me the first word that comes to your mind."

"Are you still testing my brain, or have we moved on to seeing if I'm crazy?" Wanda asked, only half joking.

"It's part of the same thing," Shuri said with a smile. "Psychological states affect brain chemesty, brain chemistry affects psychological states. But this test is specifically to make sure you didn't have any brain circuits suffocate while you were bleeding out and frozen in ice."

"Okay. Let's get it over with. But just so you know, I've always hated this game."

Shuri chuckled. "Good to know. First word: tree."

"Bark."

"Pen."

"Write."

"Tomorrow."

Wanda's brain went blank. This was why she hated this game. "I don't know. Day."

"Tony Stark."

"Smug."

"Her brain seems fine to me," Dr. Cho joked.

"Yeah, me too. Watch this one," Shuri said, suppressing a grin. "Vision."

They all saw the hologram of Wanda's brain light up more than it had before.

Dr. Cho smirked. "That's interesting."

"Shut up," Wanda said, watching a flicker across a sections of her brain she was pretty sure were associated with annoyance and sorrow. She had lost Vision; her feelings for him didn't matter, and she hated having them laid out in the open like this. "Vision and I used to date, but he doesn't feel that way about me anymore."

"Really?" Dr. Cho asked in what sounded like legitimate surprise. "Then why did he refuse to leave your side the entire time you were unconscious?"

Wanda blinked at her. "He did?"

She smiled. She smiled like she had a secret. "He did."

She was wrong, Wanda told herself. Vision had just been concerned about her. He would have done the same for any of his teammates.

Shuri took the scanner off her head. "You can get up and walk around if you feel up to it, but if you start to feel faint, sit down. Don't push yourself. I'm going to run some more tests in a few hours."

"I want to get a scan of your stomach after you've eaten something to make sure your digestive system's functioning normally," Dr. Cho added. "And try not to use your powers for a few days. I have no idea how your powers affect your body and I don't want to risk them disrupting the synthetic tissue integration."

"I'll try," she said. She sat up, and looked down at her hospital gown.

"I'll get you some new clothes," Shuri said.

...

... ... ...

...

It had been a couple of days since they'd returned to the Avengers compound. Vision had waited and watched as everyone checked on Wanda. Clint had come to visit, and Wanda had clearly been glad to see him, but she told everyone that she felt fine and didn't need everyone looking after her.

Vision had tried to find a quiet moment to talk to her in private, but whenever one arose he'd found some excuse not to.

No more excuses.

It was late in the evening. Clint had returned home. Steve, Sam, and Rhodes had gone out to a movie. It was Bruce and Natasha's date night, when they locked themselves in the training room, from which the Hulk's booming voice could sometimes be heard. All of which meant Wanda would be alone.

Vision stood outside her door. He raised his hand to knock.

But maybe he shouldn't. She was probably enjoying a few hours of quiet. Maybe she was already sleeping.

No. That was another excuse. He would talk to her.

It wasn't that he _wanted_ to talk to her. What he wanted, if he were being honest, was to see her, to touch her, to hold her hands again, maybe to...

This was a terrible idea. He shouldn't just ambush her in her own room. If he wanted to talk to her, it should be in some neutral setting. Perhaps he should wait until the next time he saw her in the lounge.

He drew his fist away from her door and pressed it to his chin, the dropped it.

No, he _had_ to talk to her. He had to get this over with. He took a shuffling step closer and resolutely lifted his fist again.

And almost knocked this time before nervous electricity staticked down his spine. He drew back, running his hand over his face.

He could do this. Just don't think about it. Just knock.

He rapped on the door quickly. The sound of the knock wasn't loud, but still startled him.

He waited. The door didn't open. After all that, she wasn't even in her room.

He turned to leave.

And saw her walking toward him down the hall, carrying a mug of tea.

"Vision. Hi," she said.

"Hi," he replied. "I was just...I wanted to see how you're feeling, see if there was anything I can do for you."

She got a dazed look on her face for a second, but then shook her head. "Honestly, I feel fine. Helen and Shuri did a great job fixing me up."

"And I'm sure you must be tired of everyone taking care of you."

She shrugged. "It's not that I don't appreciate it. It's nice to know people are glad I'm not dead, but it reminds me of HYDRA. When Pietro and I survived the experiments, the scientists made such a fuss over us. We'd been taking care of ourselve on the streets for years, so it was a very new experience. But with that came all the tests, all the experiments, the scans, the blood draws. I got tired of it fast." She looked at him for a moment: right at him, in his eyes. "But I don't think you really came here just to check on me. I was watching you from down the hall for two minutes, waiting to see if you would knock."

He felt an accutely unpleasant feeling his memory banks quickly labeled as "mortified."

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked.

"Because if you decided not to knock and just walked away, I was going to let you. I wouldn't have blamed you for deciding not to knock. I know I've made things awkward between us."

"No," he insisted. "I won't deny that things have been awkward, but it's hardly your fault."

Her lips lifted in a small, unconvinced smile for a second, then smoothed again to a straight line. "About the things I said, back in the factory... I was sure I was about to die, so I said some things I wouldn't have said. I'm not sure how much I told you, or how much you figured out, about how I feel about you..."

"You really don't remember waking up in the cradle?" he asked.

She wrinkled her brow. "No. Why? What did I say?"

He'd meant to admit that he now knew what happened when Thanos attacked, to assure her she was blameless for it, but it suddenly didn't feel like a good idea to bring it up. Not right now, when she was still recovering physically and psychologically from her near death.

"Nothing I didn't already know," he lied.

"Oh God." She looked away. Her lips parted and she drew in a breath as if she were preparing to say something more, then she changed her mind, opened the door to her room, and walked inside.

Vision wasn't sure if she was dismissing him, but she left her door open. She put her cup of tea down on her nightstand and turned back toward him, and he realized she was inviting him in while also leaving him the option to leave.

He followed her into the room, closing the door behind him.

"I'm sorry I almost got you killed," he said.

She tilted her head in confusion. "What do you mean almost got me killed? You saved my life."

"You would not have been in danger if it weren't for me. The bots identified our weaknesses. They knew you would put yourself at risk to protect me."

"My feelings for you aren't your fault."

"I should have realized they would use me against you. I should have recused myself from the mission, as Stark, Wilson, and Rhodes did."

"If you had, the bot might have shot me anyway, and then I'd be dead now." She looked down at her floor. "Vision, I will always protect you. Always. If that gets me killed, just know it was my choice."

"I wish you wouldn't. I hate that people have used me to control you. The spiderbots used me to distract you, Tony used me to bring you back to the Avengers."

"You can't really blame Tony. He loves you like a son. He would have done anything to have you back. That bringing you back...influenced me to come back was just a bonus to him. But I can see why it upset you. Feeling like you're being used sucks."

"What upsets me is being used as a tool to hurt you." He stared at her. Would she pick up that he meant _her,_ that he hated being used to manipulate _her_ in specific? As much as she felt for him, would she even want to know that? That he felt the same way about her? She was so haunted by guilt and tragedy, and he was a constant reminder of much of it, the worst of it. Loving someone didn't necessarily mean wanting to be with them. And if she didn't want him, he would leave. He would walk away, no matter how difficult and painful it would be. "I never want to hurt you," he stated.

She seemed frozen in the intensity of his gaze, pinned in place, and it took her a moment to reply. "You could never hurt me, Vision."

"I know that's not true. I know just being with me hurts you."

She stared at him, took a step closer to him, and her expression changed. It was as if a mask of indifference melted away to reveal what was hidden beneath: turmoil, the aftermarks of all the suffering she had endured, adoration. "It hurts less than being without you."

He meant to take her hand, but instead his hand lifted to her face. He cupped her cheek. She closed her eyes and turned her head toward his touch. He wasn't sure if the stiffled sound that escaped her throat was a gasp or a whimper.

"Wanda," he whispered.

She took a shaky breath, and tried to put the mask back on. She took his hand and drew it off her face "Vision, you don't need to do this. You don't need to do anything for me."

He wrapped his fingers around hers. "I want to."

Her eyes fixed on his. "I want you to," she breathed.

In an impulse that was almost an instinct, he lifted her hand to his lips. She looked dazed, like she couldn't quite believe this was really happening.

"Wanda, when you were injured, when no one was sure if you would wake up, I felt...I felt as though I wouldn't be able to bear it if I lost you." He took her other hand. He looked down at their hands, afraid to look in her eyes. "I know I can't replace what you've lost, but I would like—I hope—for you to accept me as a substitute, a consolation."

She shook her head forcefully, almost frantically. "No, Vision; you're not a substitute for anything." She moved forward, forcing him to meet her eyes. "You _are_ Vision. You're you." She paused, lost in his eyes. "You're my Vision," she whispered.

He wasn't sure which of them moved first. He bent his head at nearly the same moment she leaned toward him. It was like their lips were magnets, moving together of their own accord once they were brought close enough.

Her lips were so soft. They fit against his so easily.

For a few seconds, they remained still. Then Wanda pushed closer to him. Her lips parted and locked over his. He was caught off guard by the force of her kiss, the desperation in it. She kissed him like she'd been drowning and he was air.

He was also surprised by his own body's response. He didn't need to eat, drink, sleep, or even breathe; he had no memory of ever craving anything the way he craved her touch.

...

... ... ...

...

Wanda still couldn't believe this was real. She kept running her fingers up and down Vision's bare arm, which was wrapped around her waist, just to reassure herself he was really there, he was solid, this wasn't just a dream.

She hadn't really brought him to her bed on purpose, and if she'd been thinking more clearly she might have held off—out of concern she'd overwhelm him, or a desire to take things slow and savor every step—but in the moment, when she was actually holding and kissing Vision, and he was responding to her with an eagerness that matched her own, there had been no moment when she thought she'd be able to bear putting any distance between them. She'd only wanted him closer.

And so now they were lying in bed. _Her_ bed, in her own room. While she'd been on the run, their assignations had always taken place in hotel rooms, remote cabins, beach shacks...borrowed spaces they would never set foot in again. This was different. Less romantic, perhaps, but more intimate.

She didn't want to move. She didn't want to fall asleep. She didn't want to do anything to end this moment.

And then Vision whispered her name into her hair.

"Yes?" she answered.

"I have a confession to make."

For a moment she was gripped with a fear that his confession would somehow undo all of this, somehow unmake their lovemaking. But this was Vision; he'd never be intentionally cruel. Never. So whatever he wanted to confess, it wasn't cataclysmic, just bad timing.

"Actually, two...actually three confessions," he amended.

"Is there a reason you're bringing them up now?"

"I'm hoping to catch you in a forgiving mood."

She had to laugh at that.

"But we can postpone this conversation until another day, if you wish," he added.

She reluctantly shifted out of his arms and rolled over to face him. "If you don't tell me now, I'm just going to worry myself sick wondering what they are."

He nodded. "When you returned to the Avengers, I disagreed with the decision to allow you back. The rogue psychic attacks you were responsible for made me question whether we could ever trust you, and I believed it was sentimentality that led the others to welcome you. I didn't understand. I didn't know what you had been through, or what our alternatives entailed. I know about the Raft prison now, I know you were kept there, and I now feel if you were confined in such a place I couldn't live with it."

"They wouldn't take me alive," Wanda stated.

"I'm so sorry. I was terrified of you. I didn't understand your passion or your sense of justice. I didn't realize your rogue attacks were the work of a vigilante rather than a villain."

"Maybe I was both. When I first joined the Avengers, I was forbidden from using my powers on people's minds. Everyone agreed it was too damaging, too invasive. I agreed. But then Thanos attacked, and I thought if I had spent those years honing instead of ignoring the strongest powers I have, I might have been able to stop him. And I thought I could practice those powers on people who deserve it. But I make mistakes. I don't believe I was unnecessarily cruel, but people whose judgment I trust more than my own believe I was wrong."

"I do believe your rogue attacks were wrong," Vision said, "but I feel no need to ask you to disavow them. I was wrong to condemn you as I did. Please forgive me."

"Vision, there is nothing you would ever do that I wouldn't forgive you for."

He searched her eyes for a long moment, then said, "Thank you."

His gaze brought back so many memories, so many moments between them. But one of those memories was of the moment she killed him. He could never know how little it mattered to her what he'd thought of her, that nothing he could ever do to her would match the horror of what she'd done to him. She wanted that memory to go away. She wanted to wrap Vision's arms around herself again and lose her memories and thoughts in the pure sensations of his touch.

But she wouldn't. She wouldn't use Vision like a drug to dull her pain. She would face what she'd done, deal with it on her own.

"The second thing I have to confess," Vision continued, "is that...I've know for some time that we had a romantic relationship before I lost my memory."

She sighed. "I should have known I couldn't hide it from you. I must have been so obvious..."

"It wasn't you," he said. "Mr. Wilson informed me of it."

"Sam told you! How could he?"

"Please don't be angry with him. He did it because he hated how much I was hurting you through my ignorance and distrust. He did it to protect you, and I am incredibly grateful to him for that. And he did it because he believed I deserved to know my own past. He respected me enough to believe I could handle that information and come to my own decisions about what to do with it. I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure how I felt about you."

"You weren't sure?" She was confused. She'd been convinced Vision feared and hated her, which had perhaps shifted to reluctant acceptance over time.

"I couldn't imagine how I could have loved you, with what I thought I knew about you, but evidently I had. I wished to understand." He placed his hand on her cheek. "I understand now. I understand so well. Please forgive me."

She closed her eyes, her entire being focused on his touch. "Anything."

He kissed her softly, trailing his fingertips along her cheek. "Thank you," he whispered.

"What's the third thing?" she asked.

He took her hand, interweaving his fingers with hers. "The memories you shared with me...they triggered memories of my own."

She stared at him. "What?"

"I remember. I remember seeing my reflection in the window for the first time, seconds after my birth. I remember finding Ultron's last form after the battle in Sokovia, talking to him, giving him the chance to say his final words, hoping I could show him a different vision of the future, that he might find some measure of peace with his end. I remember that night in Edinburgh, the memory you didn't want me to see. I remembered one of our attackers telling me they would let you live if I surrendered the Mind Stone. I wanted you to survive more than anything, but you refused to leave me. I was too injured to fight. I could only watch as you prepared to face them alone. I was so relieved when Captain Rogers, Miss Romanoff, and Mr. Wilson arrived."

Wanda could hardly believe it. His memories were still there—lost inside his head, but they still existed. Her Vision was still in there. That was why he'd come to her tonight, why he'd kissed her. She'd believed he could never fall in love with her again, after the things she'd done and as changed as she was. But he didn't have to: he remembered his love for her.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't wish for you to feel any pressure to share more memories with me, with as much pain and distress as it caused you."

"My pain and distress are nothing if I can give you your memories back."

"I disagree," he said. "I can't bear to cause you any unnecessary pain. As much as I wish to regain my memories, it isn't worth it."

"It's worth it to me."

He gave a small, gentle smile, and kissed her forehead. "We can discuss it later. Now is not the time."

She nodded. It was late, she was tired, and she just wanted Vision to hold her. She curled into his arms.

"There is something more I want to say. It isn't a confession, more of an acknowledgment. When you regained consciousness in the cradle, there is something you said to me, something I had known, but that I have no memory of you telling me before. I didn't say this then. I wanted to, but I was overwhelmed with emotions, since I had come so close to losing you. I needed time to think, to process, so I wouldn't say it until I could be certain I truly meant it." He kissed her hair, and whispered next to her ear, "I love you too."


	30. Trust and Dust

Chapter 30: Trust and Dust

I arise from dreams of thee  
In the first sweet sleep of night,  
When the winds are breathing low,  
And the stars are shining bright:  
I arise from dreams of thee,  
And a spirit in my feet  
Hath led me—who knows how?  
To thy chamber window, Sweet!

The wandering airs they faint  
On the dark, the silent stream—  
The Champak odours fail  
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;  
The Nightingale's complaint,  
It dies upon her heart;—  
As I must on thine,  
Oh, belovèd as thou art!

Oh lift me from the grass!  
I die! I faint! I fail!  
Let thy love in kisses rain  
On my lips and eyelids pale.  
My cheek is cold and white, alas!  
My heart beats loud and fast;—  
Oh! press it to thine own again,  
Where it will break at last.

~Percy Bysshe Shelley, "Indian Serenade"

 _Do you have time to talk?_ was all Wanda's text said.

Nat found her in the lounge, standing in front of the window she'd broken and repaired with her powers. There had been a discussion between Tony, Steve, and Nat over whether to replace that window. Nat had talked them into leaving it as it was, as a symbol of how hard Wanda would work to fix her mistakes.

It was early in the morning. The sun was just rising.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Nat asked, stepping next to her.

"I hope I didn't wake you up."

"No, you didn't. What's up?"

A bright, wholesome smile lit up Wanda's face. "I just had to tell someone. Last night, Vision came to talk to me..."

"And let me guess," Nat smirked, "one thing led to another."

Wanda chuckled self-consciously. "Am I that obvious?"

"A little bit. Besides, I saw Vision when you went down in the spiderbot factory, when he didn't think we'd be able to save you. He was heartbroken. I kind of figured once you recovered he would do something about it."

Wanda looked back out the window at the sunrise. "He told me he loves me, Nat. He still loves me, even after everything."

"That's great. I'm happy for you. For both of you."

"I'm so happy," Wanda said. Then her smile dimmed. "How am I going to keep from screwing this up?"

"I wonder the same thing about me and Bruce. It's hard when you're in love with someone who's so unselfish, so decent, so just all around _good,_ and you're...halfway there when you're trying your best."

"Exactly," Wanda said.

Nat nodded, more to herself than her. "You take it one day at a time. Enjoy what you've got without worrying about how long it will last. And trust him that he accepts you for what you are. That's sometimes the hardest part for me."

Wanda gave her a quick hug. "Thanks, Nat."

"Any time. I mean that. If you ever need someone to talk to..."

"I don't know how I got so lucky. To have Vision, and to have friends like you. I don't deserve any of it."

"Of course you do. Even with the things you and I have done in the past... We put our lives on the line to protect the world regularly. That has got to count for something."

"Good point," she laughed. "I just feel so...damaged, sometimes."

"I know, but we're mending. It takes time, and it can get aggravatingly frustrating. But healing does happen, even if it"s too slow to see a difference from one day to the next. You have already gotten through the worst of it. And now Vision is back. He loves you. Trust that. Trust him. When life finally gives you something good, accept it."

She nodded. "Thanks. We should do a double-date sometime."

"Absolutely."

...

... ... ...

...

It had only been a few days since Vision said he loved her. Wanda was still trying to come to grips with what their relationship was now. Their romance was new to him, and she had to continually remind herself he didn't share her memories of their first two years together.

She also had to get used to being in a relationship with him while living together. They had lived together in the Avengers compound before, of course, but as friends, as roommates. They had been separated by distance and the Avengers' rift when they were lovers, requiring them to meet in secret, a few days together every month or two in far-flung corners of the world. While they were together then, they would hardly leave each other's side. Now Wanda had to restrain herself from following Vision around like a lovesick puppy. She had to remind herself to give him space, that they could see each other every day so she didn't have to spend every minute she possibly could with him.

They had, however, ended up together every night since. They hadn't decided to; they hadn't talked about it, and Wanda didn't expect that rate to last long. She was considering designating one night a week as an official date night, like Nat and Bruce did, but it didn't seem like that would be enough. Not yet.

Tonight she was reading a book when she heard Vision's soft knock on the door.

"Come in," she said, rising.

He phased through the door and kissed her without a word. Her heart fluttered.

After a few seconds—not nearly long enough—he drew back and looked at her. He brushed a lock of hair back from her face. There was something in his eyes that concerned her.

"Vis, what is it?"

"There is something I wish to discuss with you."

She tried to hide her worry. "What?"

He took her hands. "We have not talked about the issue of the memories..."

"No, we haven't," Wanda said. She still wanted to give Vision more of his memories, but she was frightened by the possibility it would trigger another flashback. With how insistent Vision was that they not risk trying again, she hadn't expected him to be the one to bring it up.

"I do want my memories back," he said. "I want to know what we have shared. And I want to know what you have endured. When you first shared your memories with me, of our battle with Ultron, and my birth, you didn't expect it would affect you so strongly and so negatively. As you said, the process is something you did often, inserting images into others' minds. I believe I have realized why doing it with me in particular is so difficult for you."

He was speaking slowly, choosing his words carefully. He was worried about something, worried about how she would take what he said.

"I..." She was trying to think of some excuse, some lie to explain away her fear of what she might accidentally show him, but came up empty.

"It's because it reminds you of something, something that haunts you. It is how you destroyed the Mind Stone. How you killed me."

She involuntarily jerked away from him, yanking her hands out of his. She wanted to run away, to hide. "How do you know about that?"

He made no movement to stop her retreat. In fact, he shifted his body a fraction of a step away from her, giving her space. "It would have been a logical recourse in the face of the threat Thanos posed. He prevailed against all the Avengers and the Wakandan army in that battle. Surely we tried everything to stop him. I saw a flash of it the first time you shared your memories with me. That was what you didn't want me to see. And," he added hesitantly, like he wasn't sure whether he should divulge it, "you told me when you regained consciousness in the cradle."

That meant he'd known she killed him the whole time they'd been together. He'd known it the night he told her he loved her.

"You can't blame yourself," he said, as if guessing her thoughts. "I'm fairly certain it wouldn't have even crossed your mind. I was the one who first suggested it, wasn't I?"

"Of course it was you," she said. "You would have sacrificed your life for just me; of course you were willing to give your life to save the universe."

He tilted his head, looking at her quizzically. "You make it sound as if my sacrifice was greater than your own, that my part in it was more difficult than yours. Wanda, what you did, what you were willing to endure... I am in awe of you. Anyone who knew what you forced yourself to do would be."

She shook her head. "Many people would consider what I did horrifying, shocking, and unforgivable. Some think it's always wrong to kill someone, no matter how many other lives it saves. And it didn't even work. Thanos brought you back just like that, and..." Her voice cracked.

He moved to her. He lifted his hand to her face, then paused, waiting to gauge her reaction, before wiping her tears. "I know it still torments you. I can't imagine how hard it is for you to be with me, to see me, a constant reminder of that moment."

"As if I need a reminder. As if I could ever forget for even a second. Being with you reminds me that you're back, that a miracle happened and you're alive. It doesn't erase what I did, but it helps."

"I wish to help you," he said. "If you must bear the burden of that memory, I wish to share it with you."

She suddenly realized what he was suggesting. "No. I don't want you to remember that. It's horrible."

"I know. But it's _our_ memory, Wanda. I should know what happened. You want to help me remember my life, but every time you do, you struggle against sharing this memory. If you give to me, it will lose its power over us, allowing you to share your memories freely. And I will better know how to help you deal with the trauma you have endured. I would never ask you to do this if I didn't believe it would help you." He kissed her forehead. "But I will not make you. You can decide when, where, and if we go through with it."

She kissed him, closing her eyes, reminding herself he was really there, alive.

She had hoped he would never realize she'd killed him. At the same time, she'd felt guilty keeping it from him. It was the kind of thing he should know about her. Maybe he was right. Maybe if she showed him that memory it would allow her to give him the rest of the memories of their time together. She wanted that so much. She wanted to share everything with him—everything but that. She wanted to spare him that memory. She wished she could forget it herself.

But she couldn't. That moment was always going to be part of her life, and if she kept that much of herself hidden from Vision, it would always be something that separated them.

She thought about the advice Nat had given her a few days ago. _Trust him._ Vision knew what he was asking. He was willing to accept the consequences. He wanted his memories back, the bad as well as the good. Who was she to decide which ones he could have?

All of this went through her mind in the space of a long kiss. She finally broke it off.

"I'm ready," she said solemnly.

He didn't ask her if she was sure. He searched her face, then nodded.

They sat on her bed. She gazed at him for a minute, caressed his face, then took a deep breath and positioned her hand above his forehead.

She decided to begin in Edinburgh, with the television showing breaking news of the alien attack in New York.

 _"What are they?"_

 _"What the Stone was warning me about."_

The news reported Tony was missing.

Vision kissed her hand. _"I have to go."_

 _"No. Vision. If that's true, then maybe going isn't the best idea."_

She was afraid for him. Yes, she had just been pointing out that they had responsibilities, but it was different when the danger was so real, when even Iron Man couldn't stand against it. She just wanted to protect Vision.

 _"Wanda, I..."_

That's when the nightmare began. An alien spear struck him from behind, protruding from his stomach. He lost his ability to phase. His human disguise melted away.

Their attackers were so strong, so strange. They seemed to be everywhere, seemed to be able to sense where they were when they ran and hid. They were clearly after Vision. They would get him over her dead body.

Steve, Sam, and Nat showed up just in time. Wanda knew that with all of them, the two aliens wouldn't stand a chance.

Once they were safely on the jet, Steve told them he'd gotten a call from the cell he'd secretly sent Tony. But it hadn't been Tony on the other end; it had been Bruce Banner. He told them Vision was in danger, that an alien overlord named Thanos was trying to collect the Infinity Stones that Thor had told them about. He already had two, he'd wiped out the Asgardians, and his forces were now on Earth.

On their way to the Avengers compound to meet up with Bruce. Wanda was mostly preoccupied with worrying about Vision, who was still in pain from his injuries and unable to phase. But she was also a little nervous to see Dr. Banner again. She hadn't seen him since the battle with Ultron, and she couldn't imagine he would ever forgive what she'd made him do.

They arrived at the Avengers compound to find Rhodes arguing with General Ross. Ross and Steve exchanged some words before Rhodey hung up on him. Bruce entered the room then, as if he'd been hiding (he'd mention later that he and General Ross weren't on speaking terms).

He and Nat had just stared at each other for a moment.

 _"Hi Bruce."_

 _"Nat."_

Nat didn't talk about Bruce much, but Wanda had picked up enough to know what had happened.

 _"This is awkward,"_ Sam said.

Bruce explained fully what had happened when Thanos attacked the Asgardian refugee ship, how he'd defeated Hulk, and Heimdall sent Hulk back to Earth. He told them what he'd heard of Thanos's plan, to destroy half of the sentient life in the universe randomly in a twisted effort to make life better for the surviving half.

 _"And he's not gonna stop until he gets...Vision's Stone."_

 _"Well then we have to protect it,"_ Nat said.

" _No, we have to destroy it,"_ Vision countered.

He explained his belief that Wanda, whose power was so close to the Mind Stone's energy signature, would be capable of destroying it.

 _"And you along with it. We're not having this conversation."_

He argued that one life—his life—couldn't stand in the way of the countless lives that would be lost if Thanos fulfilled his plan. Bruce suggested removing the Mind Stone before destroying it, but admitted he didn't have the skills or resources to attempt it. Steve said he knew somewhere that did.

Minutes later they were on the jet heading to Wakanda. Steve told them how after he and Tony had a fight in Siberia over Bucky Barnes, the Black Panther had brought Bucky to Wakanda, using their advanced technology to freeze him until they could cure him of his HYDRA programming. This was something he'd never even told the other Rogue Avengers about.

When they landed, Vision and Wanda were rushed to Princess Shuri's lab. Shuri examined him, and determined she could remove the Mind Stone, but it would take time.

Wanda had no doubt she could destroy the Mind Stone. She'd taken control of it before, when she and Clint escaped from the Avenger compound. She was worried what removing it might do to Vision, but that was a much smaller risk than letting Thanos get it.

The attack came too soon.

Wanda watched it from the Window as Shuri operated on Vision. But Thanos's army was so strong, Wanda couldn't just stay behind the lines while her friends risked their llives, while the army got closer and closer to Vision. She flew to the fray.

Her memories of the battle were flashes, fragments. She vividly remembered being ambushed by the alien she'd fought in Edinburgh, Nat and Okoye coming to her rescue.

She found Vision in the forest, grievously injured. The Mind Stone trilled.

 _"He's here."_

They watched Thanos arrive, appearing in a glowing blue cloud. He walked toward them, seemingly barely noticing as he was attacked by Bruce, Sam, T'Challa.

 _"It's time."_ Vision said.

 _"No."_

 _"They can't stop him, Wanda, but we can."_

She didn't want to listen as he pleaded for her to destroy the Stone, but he was right. She couldn't deny that.

 _"You could never hurt me. I just feel you."_

So she did it. He used his last words to reassure her.

 _"It's alright... It's alright..."_

With one hand she drilled into the Mind Stone, with the other she kept Thanos back. She was beyond choice, beyond thought, lost in the nightmare necessity had driven her to.

 _"I love you."_

The Mind Stone disintegrated. Vision was consumed by the explosion. The force of it threw Wanda back. She had never channeled that much energy before. She felt like every cell in her body had been pulled taut like a rubber band, but the physical pain was nothing. Nothing. She felt dead inside. Beyond dead. Hollow. She hadn't been sure whether or not destroying the Mind Stone would kill her too. She wished it had.

She'd thought even if destroying the Mind Stone didn't kill her, Thanos would. Surely he'd kill her for foiling his plan.

But he didn't. He didn't even seem disappointed.

 _"I understand, my child,"_ Thanos said. _"Better than anyone."_

 _"You could never."_

He touched her, putting his hand on her head like she really was a child. She cringed in revulsion.

 _"Today I lost more than you will ever know. But now is no time to mourn. Now is no time at all."_

She didn't understand what he was doing, hadn't imagined it was possible. He turned back time, brought Vision and the Mind Stone back together. For a moment, Wanda's mind in a haze of confusion, her heart leapt at the undoing of Vision's death. But in a second she realized what it meant: Thanos would get him.

 _"No!"_

He swatted her back, picked Vision up like a ragdoll, tore a hole in his head.

Nothing mattered next. Things happened. All Wanda could remember was crawling to Vision's body, drained of color as of life. They had lost. She had lost everything. That was all she felt. She watched herself turn to dust. She didn't care.

Wanda ended the memory there, drawing her mind out of Vision's.

"I'm so sorry," he said, sounding like he finally understood. "I'm so sorry I did that to you."

"We had no choice. We had to stop him."

He drew her into his arms. She sobbed, and he held her.

She had shed so many tears for that moment. She'd mourned Vision so many times. But this was different. He was here, alive, his arms around her. He held her so close her sobs shook his body, as if he were crying, which his physiology was incapable of doing. This time he shared her grief. It was from and for both of them.


	31. Absolution

Author's note: Last chapter! Thank you, everyone who's stuck with this story for so long! I hope you've all enjoyed it.

Chapter 31: Absolution

Beyond the shadow of the ship,  
I watched the water-snakes:  
They moved in tracks of shining white,  
And when they reared, the elfish light  
Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship  
I watched their rich attire:  
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,  
They coiled and swam; and every track  
Was a flash of golden fire.

O happy living things! no tongue  
Their beauty might declare:  
A spring of love gushed from my heart,  
And I blessed them unaware:  
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,  
And I blessed them unaware.

The self same moment I could pray;  
And from my neck so free  
The Albatross fell off, and sank  
Like lead into the sea.

~Samuel Taylor Coleridge, "Rime of the Ancient Mariner"

The morning sun shining through the window gave the room a warm, comfortable feeling. It was rather domestic.

Vision could feel the warmth of the coffee. He could taste it on his tongue. No, not his tongue: Wanda's. It had a slightly bitter edge to it, but the overall flavor was delightful.

"What do you think of it?" Wanda asked, lowering her hand from his forehead to wrap it around the mug of coffee in her hand.

"It was very pleasant. It does remind me slightly of the chocolate you shared with me last night."

Wanda smiled. "Which do you like better?"

"I'm not sure. It does seem rather unfair to pick a favorite food or a favorite beverage when they are all so different and pleasurable. Why must humans pit everything against each other?"

"I don't know. I've never really thought about it."

Vision smiled and kissed her cheek. He couldn't believe how lucky he was that the woman he loved also happened to be the one person who could share with him all the simple pleasures of being human.

She popped a forkful of fried egg in her mouth. Her fingers danced in front of his face, red threads connecting her mind to his, sharing what she felt, smelled, and tasted with him.

He closed his eyes, enjoying these new flavors.

He felt Wanda grow startled a second before he heard a door open. He opened his eyes to see Tony and Natasha walk in.

Tony looked at them for a moment, then smirked. "Are we interrupting something?"

"Wanda was sharing her breakfast with me," Vision explained. He wasn't sure why Wanda was blushing; it wasn't as though they'd been caught making love at the breakfast table.

"Nothing beats the morning-after breakfast," he said, then quickly added to Wanda, "I didn't know you could do that."

"Wanda possesses a range of remarkable capabilities," Vision said. He knew Wanda wasn't supposed to be practicing her mind powers, but he couldn't imagine Tony would object to her sharing her sensations with him, as it was completely consensual.

"Oh, I'm sure she does," Tony said.

Nat lightly smacked him for the double-entendre. "Not the time, Stark."

Wanda tensed. "What is it, Nat? What's wrong?"

It was Tony who answered, the teasing glint fading from his eyes. "The UN Sokovia Accords Oversight Committee has scheduled a hearing on the mission to stop Olson Carroll. They want all the details on the spiderbots, what we know about his technological innovations. They want King T'Challa there to answer questions about how Wakanda's intelligence network found and rescued the kidnapped scientists."

"The thing is," Nat added, "they want all of us there. In the past, for missions like this, they'd just have one or two of us give a statement, usually Stark, Cap, or me. Whoever headed the mission. The fact that they want all of us there in person... Something's fishy."

"It's me," Wanda said, the mood of playful contentedness from a few minutes ago replaced by gloomy agitation. "I knew this would happen. They know about my crimes; they're going to try to lock me away again."

Vision was seized with an impulse to protect her. "We won't let them."

She smiled sadly at him. "Thank you. But you couldn't stop them. Not without putting the whole team in danger."

"We need a game plan," Nat said. "Fortunately, Stark knows some of the best lawyers in the world. But you might want to find somewhere to lay low until we sort it out."

Wanda stood and walked out. Vision followed her, finding her pacing in the hallway. He stopped her with his hands on her arms.

"Nat's wrong. I can't just let everyone else go down with me."

"You never signed the Sokovia Accords, either the original or revised version. There is a legal argument to be made that you need not be bound by it."

"Are you kidding? The Sokovia Accords were written with me in mind. There's a clause in it allowing someone known or strongly suspected of being responsible for mind control crimes to be killed immediately without trial. If the Committee thinks the things I did qualify... All the other Avengers signed the revised Accords, which means if they show up and I don't, the Committee could arrest them for harboring me, and they could all be locked up in the Raft. Because of me."

"That wouldn't happen. They would not risk the public outcry of locking up the Avengers."

"A lot of that public thinks all enhanced humans should be locked up, whether they use their powers or not. I can't let the Avengers risk that because of me. If they want us all to be there, I'm going. If they want me to answer for the things I've done... No one else is going to answer for that for me."

She would put her life in danger in hopes of preserving the other Avengers' freedom, he realized. "Wanda, you don't have to go. _We_ don't have to go."

He wasn't going to dissuade her; he could see that in the apology in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Vis. If they try to take me, I'll disappear. They'll never find me."

"If it comes to that, I'm going with you," he stated.x

"I couldn't ask you to do that," she said slowly, as if the words pained her and she had to force them out.

He understood. She would be giving up her home, her friends, the job of helping to protect the world. She didn't want him to lose that as well. She thought leaving him behind would be the unselfish thing. But he wouldn't be able to bear it.

"Wanda, please." He took her hand, locking his eyes on hers. "Promise me, if you go, you'll take me with you. Don't ask me to lose you again."

He could see the conflict inside her, what she wanted pitted against what she thought was the right thing to do.

"'wherever i go you go, my dear,'" he quoted to her.

She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "I promise."

"I figured if we lost one of you, we'd lose both of you," Tony said from the doorway, where he and Nat had been eavesdropping. "But I'm not willing to give either of you up without a fight."

...

... ... ...

...

The room where the Sokovia Accords Oversight Committee met wasn't large. Tony, Steve, Nat, Rhodes, Bruce, Sam, Wanda, Vision, and T'Challa were all seated along one long end of a table. The committee members sat across from them, behind bronze nametags. Furthest to the left was the American representative Edmund Vartanian, who'd been included on the committee because the U.S. was the Avengers' home base and therefore had the biggest direct influence on them. In the center was Zhou Pumin, who had been recommended to head the committee by Tony on the basis of her brief stint as acting Secretery General of the UN after the Dusting—which, of course, she had no memory of. The other members were Iria Pinheiro, Knut Lind, Michael Adumbi, Daniyah Rashid, Konrad Meier, and Nigel Chester.

"So you're telling us, Ms. Romanoff, that even though you witnessed Olson Carroll's suicide, and his body has been autopsied and buried, you believe he's still a threat? That he might still be alive in a digital form?" Lind asked.

"We know it's technologically possible," she answered. "Captain Rogers and I have witnessed it before. And, let's not forget, surviving in a digital form past the death of his physical body was Carroll's stated life's goal."

"But we have no proof that he did survive," Pinheiro pointed out.

"If I were him, I'd be laying low too. Considering what he's done, and what we know he's technologically capable of, we can't close the books on him yet."

The committee members glanced at each other. Zhou nodded. "Better to be too cautious than not enough. We'll keep the case open, assign some cyber-security agents to look for him on the internet, go through his history to see what we can find, update you if we find anything."

"We'll do the same," Nat said. "Thank you."

Zhou shuffled the papers on the table in front of her. "As I'm sure you guessed because we asked you all to be here, we do have a couple of other matters on the agenda today. First, we need to clear up some questions about the so-called nightmare bombs."

"What questions?" Tony asked.

Adumbi leaned forward. "These terrorist attacks popped up all over the world for months. Mr. Stark stated publicly that the Avengers knew who was responsible for them. The attacks stop, and shortly after Wanda Maximoff is back with the Avengers with no explanation, after being reported missing and presumed dead during the Thanos conflict. We're not stupid. You deliberately withheld information from this council, Mr. Stark, and it is not hard to guess the reason."

"Let's not beat around the bush," Chester said. "Miss Maximoff, were you responsible for the attacks in question?"

Wanda had been dreading this moment. The question echoed inside her like thunder.

But before anyone else could answer for her, she forced herself to speak. "Yes."

Everyone stared at her, looking startled, frowning, confused, shocked. It wasn't that any of them doubted she had done it, but that they hadn't expected her to admit it so readily. Perhaps some of them were hoping she'd deny it, hoping the Avengers would make up some imaginary villain they could pin the attacks on so the Committee could pretend to believe them.

"Those are very serious crimes you're confessing to," Meier said. "Perhaps you don't understand..."

"I understand," she interrupted him. "I returned from fighting Thanos, having lost..." She paused, and had to keep herself from glancing at Vision. "...some of my dearest friends, and I saw the same world I've always seen, full of pain and injustice. And I felt I had to do something about it. If I had the power and will, I had to do something to try to make the world better. But it was wrong to do. Not because the people I went after didn't deserve to be stopped, or to be punished, but because that was not my decision to make alone. One enhanced individual appointing herself judge and jury is a recipe for chaos, even if it is me. My teammates helped me to see that. I am sorry. I can only beg for your understanding." She did look at Vision now. This confession could tear her away from him, or both of them away from this Earth if she managed to escape and kept her promise to take him with her.

"I'd like to take this moment to remind the Committee that Wanda defeated Thanos," Tony said. "Without her, we wouldn't have been able to undo the Snap, and half the people in this room wouldn't be here right now. If that's not grounds for leniency..."

"We can't just let an enhanced individual get away with crimes just bacause they are powerful," Adumbi declared. "That is exactly what the Sokovia Accords were created to prevent. There _must_ be consequences. Enhanced persons can't just live by a different set of rules than the rest of us."

Rashid turned slightly toward him. "The Sokovia Accords were created _because_ enhanced individuals need a different set of rules than the rest of us," she said. "It is our job to figure out what those rules need to be. I was turned to dust by Thanos. I am one of those who would not be here if it weren't for Wanda Maximoff's powers. Yes, those powers mean their mistakes can lead to greater harm than normal people, but they can also be used for greater good, and that needs to be considered."

"Wanda has done a lot of good with her powers," Nat said. "And with the threats that are still coming, that the world will need the Avengers to defend them from, we need Wanda."

"She has also done a lot of harm," Chester said. "And I'm not just talking about the nightmare bombs. Let's not forget Ultron, Lagos..."

"I have not forgotten Lagos," T'Challa stated.

Everyone in the room fell silent and turned toward him.

"It was my people who died from that bomb. But many more people would have been killed if Miss Maximoff had done nothing. When Thanos's forces attacked my country, she entered the battle beside us, putting her own life at great risk to save the lives of many of my warriors. We should not judge people by their mistakes, but by their character. I saw her character that day, and I stand with her."

His words touched Wanda deeply. She had not been expecting King T'Challa to stand up for her.

"I second that," Steve said. "Wanda is a good person. She's the kind of person who recognizes her mistakes and works to fix them. And more than that, she's an Avenger. She's saved my life, and earned my trust. If your verdict is that she's out of the Avengers, then so am I. I will resign. The Avengers are a team; a strike against one of us is a strike against all of us."

"I too will not remain in the Avengers if Wanda cannot," Vision said.

"Same here," said Sam. "Wanda's one of us, and I'm not going to stand by and let anyone break us up."

"We have already decided how to handle Wanda's actions internally," Nat said. "If you're going to overrule our decisions, those aren't conditions I feel I can operate under. If you tell us that Wanda's out of the Avengers, I'm out too."

Bruce spoke up. "If you want Wanda gone, you should probably kick me out too. Some of us have powers with greater potential for destruction than others. As long as we're together, we can keep each other in check. We've discovered in our training that Wanda can force the Hulk to turn back into me. That could come in real handy sometime. I feel a lot more comfortable going on missions when I know Wanda's got my back."

"There you have it," Tony said. "Let's be clear here: punishing Wanda for her crimes, you're talking about either locking her up again or ordering us to take her out. None of us are gonna do that, whatever our signatures on the Accords say. So what you're looking at is letting the Avengers deal with our own how we see fit, or the dissolution of the Avengers altogether."

"I don't think it's justified for you to attempt to threaten or blackmail us in an attempt to influence our decision," Vartanian said.

"It's not a threat or blackmail," Nat said. "It's us stating the conditions we are willing to work under."

"We can't just let Wanda Maximoff off with no consequences, again. There would be global outrage," Pinheiro argued.

"There will also be global outrage if we lock up one of the heroes who defeated Thanos," said Lind.

Zhou had been silent, a thoughtful expression on her face. Wanda had the feeling that she was only waiting to make sure everyone felt like they had had their say. Now she spoke up.

"There are many issues to consider here: should we judge people based on one action, or should we weigh the bad someone does against the good? Should we judge actions by their intent or their consequences? Where are the lines we draw to balance justice and mercy? Philosophers have been arguing over these questions for thousands of years, and we're not going to agree on one answer today, but I believe that deep down most people know what is right and what is wrong. We get messed up when we let ourselves be guided by what customs we're taught, what authority figures tell us, and what we think other people believe instead of our own sense of right and wrong. With that in mind, I prepared a vote." She stood up and handed slips of paper to each member of the committee. "A completely anonymous vote. No one—not me, not the Avengers, not your own countries—will know who says yes and who says no. The question is: will we allow Wanda Maximiff to stay with the Avengers? If we say no, we will submit her to a trial. Are we willing to sentence her to imprisonment, or even death? Or do we allow her to remain a member of the Avengers, provided she sign the Revised Sokovia Accords, out of desire to keep her powers among the resources we have to protect the world, or out of gratitude for her part in undoing Thanos's attack, or simply because we don't believe she deserves what would happen if she's forced out?" She took a box with a slot in the top. She dropped a folded card into it, then handed it to Vartanian. "To be clear, a vote yes says Wanda Maximoff remains with the Avengers, to be handled by them as they think best. A no vote means we put it in our own hands to decide how to deal with her."

She walked to the other end of the table and waited. They all waited in silence. The box was passed from one person to the next. Some had their vote waiting, others held the box for several long seconds before slipping a card in. When it got to the end, Zhou shook the box to thoroughly mix up the contents, then dumped the votes out on a desk, and turned on a camera that projected the pile of cards on a screen at the front of the room.

Wanda's eyes were glued to the screen, on the votes that would decide her future.

Zhou unfolded the first paper.

No.

Something cold flooded through Wanda, from the marrow of her bones to the tips of her fingers.

Next: Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

Yes.

"Two votes no, six votes yes," Zhou announced. "I'm a little surprised. But unless there are any objections I think we can accept this as a resolution."

No one said anything.

The results of the vote sunk in: Wanda had been given a reprieve. Overcome with relief, she collapsed, burying her face in her hands.

Vision was beside her in an instant, his hand on her shoulder. "Wanda...?"

"I'm alright," she whispered, sitting up, nodding. She looked at the members of the committee across the table. Two of them believed she deserved to die, but that didn't matter to her at the moment. What mattered was she could go home. "Thank you," she said, her voice as clear and strong as she could manage—which wasn't very.

Zhou sat back in her chair and shuffled through her papers again. "If that vote went different, there wouldn't be time for the next business, but I think we have time. In our last session, we passed an amendment to the Revised Sokovia Accords to address a...oversight" She picked up one page and read from it. "'As of now, Vision is the only known synthetic human, but we should not fool ourselves to think he will be the last, in spite of the current moratorium on their development. That brings many legal questions, such as: If a human kills a synthetic human, is it murder? If a synthetic human kills a human, is that murder? Should humans and synthetic humans be allowed to marry? We should answer these questions before they become legal issues. Our new amendment, Amendment 7, clarifies that autonomous synthetic humans be legally classified as human, citizens of the state or states in which they were constructed, subject to the same laws and possessing the same human rights. In accordance with the terms of the Revised Sokovia Accords demanded by Mr. Stark, all amendments must be agreed to and signed by a majority of signatory enhanced persons to take effect.'"

An aide walked behind the Avengers, sliding copies of the proposed amendment in front of them.

Wanda read it over. It was brief and simple, basically exactly what Zhou had just said. This amendment would, in no uncertain terms, with no restrictions or caveats, affirm Vision's humanity.

She looked up at him, catching his eye. They both realized what this could mean for them.

"I have no objection to signing this," Steve said.

Nat read it over again and again, as if searching for any sign of duplicity. Tony skimmed it, but from the look on his face, Wanda was sure he'd seen it before. He might even have written it.

"Looks good," Rhodey said.

Sam read it over, then looked to Vision. "What do you think?"

Vision was strangely motionless. It took him several seconds to answer. "I want this. It means so very much."

Sam nodded.

Wanda wanted to sign it. She wanted to be one of the people giving Vision this. In order to do that, she would need to sign the Sokovia Accords, pledge her powers to the protection of Earth and the human race, accepting the limitations that came with it. She'd been planning on signing anyway, if they didn't decide to lock her up or kill her first. But now she would mean it.

"I think we're unanimous," Tony stated.

...

... ... ...

...

Nat and Wanda sat in a small, quiet Viennese café watching the morning rain out the window. They had maintained a comfortable silence for a minute, and Nat decided she would give Wanda a little encouragement to talk about what was on her mind. "How are you feeling?"

Wanda looked at her questioningly. "Good. I'm feeling great, after yesterday..."

"Come on. It's me. I meant it when I said you could talk to me about anything. What's eating at you?"

"I'm _mostly_ happy" she amended. "I'm so happy about Vision's legal status, that he's been officially recognized as human."

"But not so much for yourself?"

Wanda shrugged.

"You're off the hook. That's a huge deal."

"It is. It's great. I'm am so, so relieved. It's just..."

"What?" Nat asked.

"It's not like they said I'm not guilty. I've done horrible things, and everyone knows it. But they let me go, again. It's like the world's forgiven me, and I feel like I don't deserve it. I just feel more guilty than ever."

"Forgiveness isn't about what people _deserve_ ," Nat said. "It's deciding to stop worrying about what they deserve and just give them another chance, give them the opportunity to be a better person. Forgiving yourself is the exact same thing."

"I've never been very good at forgiving anyone."

"It takes practice," Nat stated.

"Forgiveness takes practice?" Wanda's lips tipped into a small smile, which drifted away as she grew pensive.

Nat sipped her coffee, leaving Wanda to her thoughts.

"Do you know if Tony is still in touch with Peter Quill and the other Guardians?" Wanda asked unexpectedly.

"He is. Just the other day he was telling me about a conversation he had with Rocket about weaponized alien prosthetics. Why do you ask?"

"No reason, really. I was just wondering."

...

... ... ...

...

His skin produced enough energy from the sun to keep him alive, but without food he'd grown weak in the constant cold, especially with the energy his body had used to regrow his arm.

He barely moved these days, saving his energy for the little Terran witch's next visit. If one came. She hadn't been back to torment him in...he wasn't sure how long.

This planet was so empty. So vastly empty. He craved any sign of life, any motion. After so long so completely alone, he'd found himself wishing he could go mad so he'd at least hallucinate some company.

The sun rose, moved across the sky, and lowered in the west. Again, and again, and again. On days without clouds, nothing but Thanos himself cast a shadow.

Then one day, around noon, Thanos saw that familiar shade of scarlet shimmer around him. It blotted out the endless aqua hue of the ice. When it faded away, he found himself surrounded by trees, bushes, ferns, insects. The air was blessedly warm.

Wanda stood in front of him.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Your new prison," she replied. "There are trees and caves for shelter, animals you can make pets of, but no sentient being for you to corrupt."

"Is this some kind of trick?"

Her face was impassive. "I'm done with you, Thanos. You've lost. We've fixed what you left broken. Those you killed are alive. Vision is alive. Gamora is alive. You don't get them. And you don't get me, either. For so long, I let my hate for you poison me. No more."

Thanos wasn't sure what to say. It had never been his intention to make anyone suffer the way she had; he'd meant his dispassionate culling to be a gift to the universe. She knew that; he didn't think she would accept any attempt at apology he could make. And he still wasn't sure this was real.

"Is Gamora really alive?" he asked.

Wanda looked at him for a moment, then tossed him a small electronic device.

"What's this?"

"Press the button."

When he pressed the button, the device projected a hologram of Gamora.

 _"So he's really trapped? Thanos isn't a threat?"_

Wanda's voice emerged from the device. _"No. He's trapped. I won't let him hurt anyone again. Do you think I should kill him?"_

Gamora though about it for a moment, then shook her head. _"If the universe is safe from him, that's all I want. That's enough."_

 _"You care about him, even after everything he did to you?"_ Wanda asked.

 _"No. Not really. He's evil. He has caused so much suffering. But...he's still my father."_

The recording ended.

"You can keep that," Wanda said. "I've also put some books and poems on it for you. This planet is still your prison, but I want it to be a humane prison."

He looked at her and swallowed, not trusting his voice to thank her for this glimpse of his daughter.

"But just so you know, if you try to leave this planet, I will know, and I will stop you," she said. "It's funny, once I stopped thinking about ways to make you suffer and started thinking about ways to kill you, one came to me right away. It would be so easy, so simple. It might kill me too, but if you threaten my world or the people I care about again, I will not hesitate."

"Thank you," he finally said. "I'm sorry for what I've done to you..."

"Stop I don't want to hear it. I'm forgiving you, and I'm forgiving myself. Maybe we can both learn to be better people. That doesn't mean I can stand you." She raised her hands and drew a cloud of red light around herself. "Goodbye, Thanos."

She disappeared, and he was still in the world full of life and warmth, the things his actions had drained from the universe.

And the device containing Gamora's voice was still in his hand.

...

... ... ...

...

Vision was waiting for Wanda in her room.

"How was it?" he asked.

"I feel like that was either the noblest thing I've ever done or the stupidest thing I've ever done, and I have no idea which it is."

He wrapped her in his arms. "Doing what you believe is right is the right thing to do, no matter what the consequences are. I'm proud of you, Wanda. I love you so much."

"Thank you." She sighed into his chest. Thanos certainly didn't deserve her forgiveness, but having gone through with it made her feel like a weight had been lifted off of her. "I love you too, Vis." She lifted her head and kissed him.

Within moments, Thanos was a distant memory.


End file.
